<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Monsters and Men by amooniesong</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811318">Monsters and Men</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong'>amooniesong</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hope is like the sun (if you only believe in it when you can see it, you'll never make it through the night) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Minecraft Championships RPF, Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Army, Assassination Attempt(s), Beheading, Character Death, Childbirth, Civil War, Dictatorship, Diplomacy, Escape, Established Relationship, Eugenics, Hospitals, Hybrids, Minecraft, Miscarriage, Multi, Permanent Character Death, Permanent Injury, Pogtopia, Political Asylum, Pregnancy, Realistic Minecraft, Rebellion, Revolution, Shotgun Wedding, Snowchester, Temporary Character Death, War, Weddings, l'manburg, manburg, political prisoner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:47:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>L'Manburg is gone. Since the end of the Minecraft Championships, Emperor Schlatt has tightened his grip on power. Niki, the only vocal rebel of his regime, has been arrested and silenced and as far as he is concerned, his strength is absolute. He has faith in his Cabinet and his heir, faith in his plans, and the rest of the world continues to turn a blind eye to the goings on in the country.</p><p>But little does the Emperor know, Bad and Skeppy have escaped. Now recovering from their ordeal in a hospital in the Province of Galeetopia - or Pogtopia - the pair are preparing to share their story with the world. With Captain Minx and Prince Ranboo at their side, a small band of revolutionaries in Manburg, and a leader that won't give up despite her imprisonment, can they succeed in overthrowing the dictator that has declared their country as his own? Or will they lose everything trying to get it back?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Antfrost/VelvetIsCake (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu/Wilbur Soot, Sam | Awesamdude &amp; Hannah | Hannahxxrose (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hope is like the sun (if you only believe in it when you can see it, you'll never make it through the night) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>177</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Province of Galeetopia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Every step forward came with a satisfying crunch. The piles of snow that had settled were the first to have fallen that season on that side of the mountain, and it made the early morning walk so much more enchanting. A bitter frost had set in overnight, giving the trees a magical appearance. The pine needles were weighed down but glittering under the sun, her rays kissing each individual flake to perfectly reflect a golden hue into the eye of the beholder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And of course, the beholder saw the beauty in the world around him. It was unmistakable. Mountains clambered high above frozen lakes, reaching out to touch the heavens above the clouds with their snow-covered tops. The springs nearby, with streams that moved too fast to freeze, bubbled and water slowly trickled down over rocks to find its way downstream. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But admiring such beauty came at a cost to the Prince, who with every clump of snow finding a way into his boots winced, and with every droplet of water bouncing off a rock and onto his hand hissed. The pain became more tolerable every day, he had made vast progress over the last year, but still his morning walks were reserved for just </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t need his advisors, nor his uncle, nor his future subjects to see what had become of him. The gradual increase in exposure he had forced himself to endure had built his resilience almost high enough to go about his daily life with little thought given to his ailments, but there was still some work to be done before he could get away with wandering the court without every inch of his body covered in some kind of material. Most of the time it wasn’t an issue anymore, but the days filled with precipitation (of which the mountains that bordered the Province caused there to be a lot of) became quickly problematic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Prince was never caught without an umbrella by his side, even on the sunniest of days, and today was no exception. He used it as a walking stick, prodding it into the snow ahead of him to query its depth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a brief pause, Prince Ranboo lowered the mask that covered the lower half of his face. The fabric was half white, half black - much like the suit that he wore. He might have been a young Prince with substantial health issues, but that was hardly an excuse to be unfashionable. Ranboo let out a quiet sigh, his free hand running over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d be expected home before long: he knew that his uncle would want to speak with him over breakfast - as he always did - and it was difficult to ignore a Regent King. He’d wanted to walk further but he’d awoken late and as a result he’d have to head home to the Court in Rutabagville sooner rather than later. It meant that he couldn’t complete his walk down to the border of L’Manburg - or Manburg as it now claimed to be - and that never quite felt right to him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The country next door had been living in darkness for several months now. It was October, and there hadn’t been a peep from anyone since the Championships had come to an abrupt end during the final days of August. Of course there were rumours - some that Ranboo believed held more weight than others - but nothing more than that. The most substantial evidence they had received of something going on was nothing more than hearsay. A Captain in the army alleged to have had a conversation with a woman in the country on two separate occasions. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t enough to confirm anything. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo, though, still believed something was happening across the border. It was why the Court had moved to Rutabagville in the first place - he’d insisted that his uncle move them closer to Manburg so that if something clear became apparent, there would be less standing in their way to intervene. The Regent King had listened, and Ranboo knew that he was indebted to his uncle for such a move. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Surely then, his uncle wouldn’t mind terribly if he was a little late for breakfast. The entire reason they were there was so they could help their neighbours.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(Ranboo mentally prepared himself for the lecture he’d receive as he walked on again: that the army would tell them if anything happened; that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to pay attention to his future subjects).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rather than turning back as he’d first considered, Ranboo continued on his walk. He picked up his pace to try and avoid being </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>late, and rather than follow the path properly he cut through the snow. Walking </span>
  <em>
    <span>as the crow flies,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was only another mile to the border, and when he found that there was nothing to see he would be able to turn around and return home with his curiosity satisfied.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That final mile would normally take a little over fifteen minutes to walk, but Ranboo found that in ten he had made it to the foot of the mountains. While not </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically </span>
  </em>
  <span>the border - as the border ran along the ridgeline several hundred metres above - he wasn’t about to hike in these conditions so early in the morning. Not only that, but this was where the route down to the tunnels was. The military kept a routine watch. If anything was amiss, this would be the place to discover it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was nothing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo let out a sigh: there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything. And yet, for some reason, he felt compelled to remain where he stood. Normally he would turn on the balls of his feet and head back to the city, but today that felt wrong. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something was drawing him to this very spot, something told him that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The cold wind nipped at his exposed skin and Ranboo shivered, averting his gaze and staring at the snow. He counted the seconds as they passed, tapping his feet and flexing his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing was happening. Today was entirely ordinary. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t spend the entire day standing in one place. His uncle might not mind </span>
  <em>
    <span>that much</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he was late for breakfast, but being entirely absent from his duties for no good reason wouldn’t be quite so excusable. Ranboo had no choice but to pull his mask back up over his face and start to walk home. This time, his journey took him away from the mountains and so the wind was behind him. Rather than blowing into his face, it blew through his hair, and the sun blinded him instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But the wind behind him meant that sound from the foot of the mountain carried.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And the wind carried with it a very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>important message.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Help!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo stopped. He wondered, for a brief moment, if he’d misheard, if his mind had taken the sounds of the wind and morphed it into words. But then he heard it again. Louder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please! Someone help!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Looking over his shoulder, Ranboo confirmed exactly what he thought he heard. He saw someone running toward him, someone that after a moment of consideration he could tell wore a military uniform and had spotted him, waving him down desperately.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t wait a second longer before sprinting back the way he’d come. Running uphill was never the most pleasant of activities, but he didn’t let himself think about how quickly his throat felt raw from the cold air he breathed in. Instead he thought about the person crying for his help - the person from the military that needed him. He thought about the feeling in his stomach that had told him to stick around a little longer than he typically would have done and he ignored the snow falling into his boots and melting around his feet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Prince Ranboo--” His name was breathed by the woman that stood before him - scrambling into a salute - and he shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Forget the formalities, what’s happened?” He demanded quickly, and as he approached the soldier turned and the two fell into a brisk walk side by side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been on duty overnight, I was just about to handover when two men appeared. They looked to be in bad shape and barely managed to get a few words out before one of them collapsed. I can’t leave the post unmanned, and I can’t carry them both back to the city alone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have their names?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“One. The one that collapsed is called Bad, the other won’t stop saying his name. He’s not even said his own yet. I’m not sure how long they’ve been in the tunnels but it must’ve been a while for them to be in that state. I’ve only ever spoken to one woman that’s made her way here and she knows the route like the back of her hand, they must have been sent by her but gotten lost.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If Bad collapsed, I suppose we don’t know why they were in the tunnels?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Sir.” The soldier said, opening up the hatch that led down to the post. “If you stay up here I’ll bring them up. Hopefully the man that was conscious is still conscious, he shouldn’t need much more than a shoulder to lean on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it.” Ranboo said. “I’m here to help. What’s your name?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Minx, Sir. I’m Captain Minx.” She told him, turning her body and reaching for the metal rungs of the ladder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right then Captain, I’m awaiting your command.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Minx disappeared underground, Ranboo stood and waited. While he’d known that something was off he wasn’t sure if even </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>had expected this. All he knew now was that his mind had more questions than before, and any plans of showing up for breakfast (or </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his morning duties) were entirely dashed. He would help Minx get the men back to the city, help them get to hospital, and he would wait to hear their story.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>First up the ladder was the conscious man that the Captain had spoken about. He looked thin and his body shook - from shock, hunger, or cold Ranboo couldn’t quite tell. His eyes were dull and when Ranboo opened his mouth to speak, he was immediately cut off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll help him?” The stranger asked. There was a moment of silence, during which Ranboo began to jump to conclusions and the man before him expanded on his statement. “Bad. You’ll make him better?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t do anything of the sort, but we’ll get you both to a hospital and they’ll fix him.” He promised. It was a hollow promise, he knew that, but it was what the man needed to hear. Ranboo could tell from the way that his entire body seemed to relax, from the way that he let out a breath and let himself sway forward until his forehead rested against the Prince’s shoulder. He reached out a hand to steady the young man, standing in silence as he listened to the slow sounds of Minx ascending the ladder. He wanted to ask his questions - wanted to ask the man’s name, if he could retell the story of how the pair had come to be here - but he decided to leave that until they were in a better position. Asking him now might not be the best idea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Still breathing.” Minx said, announcing her presence. “But we need to hurry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is he okay?” The other asked immediately, his voice crackling and breaking as he did. “Bad, it’s okay, I’m here--”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’ll be fine.” Ranboo said, trying to make his voice as gentle as he could. “The sooner we can get the both of you to hospital, the better. Without knowing how long you’ve been down there, we can’t tell for certain what’s left him unconscious.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was the eighth.” The man replied. “We left Niki’s on the eighth, we got lost, I don’t know what day it is now…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo didn’t have to say anything. He just looked over the stranger’s head toward Minx, who with Bad on her shoulder was looking right back at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Neither of them had any idea how much - if </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>- food or water these two men had entered the tunnels with. Clearly, to have made it to the eleventh, they’d had </span>
  <em>
    <span>some, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but it meant that Bad’s unconsciousness had likely been caused by either hunger or dehydration. It would be an easy fix for doctor’s, but one that both would rather take place sooner rather than later. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite having another person on her shoulder, Minx walked quickly and confidently through the snow. Ranboo had to walk much more steadily with the man slowing him down considerably. His steps were shaky and uncertain and it took everything in his power to not just scoop him up and carry him. Hopefully when they reached the stream he had crossed earlier the man would be able to stop for a drink, and hopefully that would re-energise him enough for the rest of the walk back to civilisation. Once they were by a road, it would be easier. Ranboo could call the doctors at the hospital the royals used: they’d be there as quickly as possible if summoned by the Prince himself. Bad and the stranger would be in good care with them. The best care.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your name?” Ranboo asked, holding the man as he squatted by the stream and leaned forward with his hands cupped together to bring as much water as he could to his mouth. He drank it eagerly, before going back for seconds as he answered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Skeppy.” He said, his voice immediately sounding much smoother.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to meet you, Skeppy. Welcome to the Province of Galeetopia.” Ranboo squeezed his shoulder gently. “My name is Ranboo, we’ll take good care of you here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you stop him?” Skeppy asked, before beginning to loudly slurp down his second handful of water.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop who?” Ranboo prompted, though he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he already knew the answer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Schlatt. Can you stop him?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After he finished his drink, Skeppy turned himself to look at Ranboo. His eyes - the same eyes that had been dull and dark only a few moments ago - were now full of hope. As Skeppy looked at him he could feel the desperation in his gaze. Whoever he was, he was begging, and while Ranboo wasn’t sure that he could fix whatever was going on across the border alone, he wasn’t about to tell someone that. Not someone that needed him. Perhaps he would disclose his doubts to his advisors, to his uncle, but not to Skeppy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Right now, Skeppy needed something to cling to, and Ranboo was content to provide that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I can.” He whispered, smiling half heartedly behind his mask. With one hand he pulled it down just enough for Skeppy to see, and the man nodded. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Came his exhausted response, before Ranboo felt Skeppy’s forehead collide with his chest as he leaned forward and rested his entire body weight against the Prince. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Thank you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy decided, contrary to almost every other person on the planet, that he liked hospitals.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He decided that when he woke up in a bed in a private room with a nurse by his side, who had smiled kindly at him and explained what had happened. He decided that he liked hospitals when she talked him through every piece of equipment he’d been hooked up to (a heart monitor, an oxygen monitor, and an IV to replenish his lost fluids). He decided he liked them even more when he was informed that Bad was next door, that he was still asleep but that his vitals looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that the rest of him was on the mend. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been dehydrated, he’d be fine in a few days, they both would. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though when Skeppy was told that if he could eat a meal and have something to drink of his own accord he could have his IV removed and visit Bad, he decided he </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>hospitals.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>still a hospital, and while it was the nicest he’d ever seen, hospital food was still hospital food. He’d looked around when the nurse had left him alone, taking in his surroundings. There was a potted plant in the corner, he had his own private bathroom and shower a few paces away, a window that overlooked the mountains he’d emerged from hours before and a call button to his side if he needed assistance. The bed that he lay in was softer than his bed was at home - though after being away from home for months he was fairly certain that sleeping in his own bed would feel like sleeping on a </span>
  <em>
    <span>cloud </span>
  </em>
  <span>- and there was a chair beside his bed with at least four pillows on it. He wondered if the chair was made up like that for visitors, or if the pillows were just there for him to choose from if he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the nurse returned with what he assumed from its appearance was some kind of chunky chicken soup and a large glass of water, Skeppy took them both eagerly. His stomach protested at first, seemingly unused to having so much to eat in one sitting after several days of hunger, but he persevered. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to see Bad. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to see Bad.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when, a little over thirty minutes later, he was sitting at the bedside of his sleeping partner, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his hand where the nurse had removed his IV, he found himself feeling calm. The constant, rhythmical beeping of the heart monitor told him that Bad was fine, and the oxygen monitor showing saturation of constantly above ninety-eight percent solidified that knowledge.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he couldn’t be entirely calm. While Bad’s presence - and rapidly improving health - offered him a great comfort, he wasn’t alone by the side of the man he loved.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The woman that had been at the end of the tunnel was still there - Captain Minx, he knew her from everything Niki had told them about her - and the man that had helped them get to hospital - Ranboo, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Prince </span>
  </em>
  <span>- was sitting at the foot of Bad’s bed too. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Whenever he was ready, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d been told, but Skeppy knew that was just a nicety. They didn’t mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>whenever he was ready, </span>
  </em>
  <span>they wanted to hear what he had to say and they wanted to hear it now. Besides, if he waited until he was ready there’d be an awful lot of therapy that needed to happen first before he could begin to recount his nearly two month stay in Manburg to others. It didn’t matter if he was ready or not, what mattered was he told them and they could step in as quickly as possible.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Skeppy said, sighing and letting his shoulders fall. Both Minx and Ranboo looked to him, and with one hand he reached out to hold Bad’s. His partner might not be conscious, but his presence was still a comfort. “You want to know what happened?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything.” Ranboo said. “I can speak to my uncle, we’ll make things right.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you’re sitting comfortably, then…” Skeppy said. Ranboo nodded from his seat, and Minx folded her arms across her chest as she leaned back against a wall (leaving a muddy footprint on the otherwise pristine white surface that Skeppy was certain a nurse would chastise her for).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess I should start from the beginning...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re lost.” Bad said. “Completely, utterly lost.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you want me to do about that?!” Skeppy snapped, and Bad stopped in his tracks. Skeppy took two more steps forward before he too came to a halt and he turned to look back over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have--”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s fine.” Bad said curtly. “These tunnels can’t go on forever. We won’t be stuck here forever.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em><span>Skeppy wanted to say something - that of </span></em><b><em>course</em></b> <em><span>they wouldn’t be there forever, that they </span></em><b><em>couldn’t </em></b><em><span>be there forever because eventually they’d die of thirst or of hunger - but he didn’t. He knew better than to say something now, it would only cause an argument and they didn’t have the energy to argue. They’d been wandering the dark, damp, dirty tunnels for goodness only knew how long - long enough for them to both need to sleep once - and they were completely out of water. Bad had let him have the last sip, for that alone Skeppy owed it to him not to cause an argument. </span></em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’ll find our way out soon.” Skeppy agreed. “We can leave a trail behind us. Maybe if we start collecting pebbles or stones we can leave a path and then we know we aren’t doubling back on ourselves.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Like Hansel and Gretel?” Bad raised an eyebrow as Skeppy began to pick up every decently sized stone he could see, nodding eagerly. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Exactly! We’ll be out of here in no time if we do that!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bad said nothing in response, and the two started to walk again. It seemed that his plan was going to work. Even if it took them some time to get out, they would eventually find their way to the border. They would eventually find Pogtopia, find Captain Minx like Niki had told them to, and they could tell the rest of the world what Schlatt was doing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you think she’s okay?” Bad asked, his voice breaking the silence. Rather than his usual tone his words were gravelly and low, and Skeppy found himself becoming quickly concerned. There was water around them, but it wasn’t abundant, and it was filthy. If they were desperate then maybe they could drink from the puddles on the floor, but there was no telling how long it had been there or if it was even safe to drink. It could make them sick, and that would be a disaster.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They just needed to get out faster. They </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>could </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>get out faster.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Skeppy?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?” He blinked. They’d made progress since he was last aware of his surroundings.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you think Niki’s okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course she is.” He replied easily. “You saw what she did, what she endured, there’s nothing anyone could do to her that could stop her from what she’s got her heart set on.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There was quiet for a moment, or a minute, or longer as they walked further through the dim tunnels, before Bad replied.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know.” He said. “That’s what scares me. I’m afraid that if they can’t stop her from what she’s trying to do, that they’ll do something more extreme to her.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She’ll be fine.” Skeppy said firmly. She </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>had </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>to be fine. “We’ll get to the border and we’ll explain what’s going on and everything will be fixed. Niki will be fine. We’ll go home and the world will go back to normal.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>In all honesty, Skeppy didn’t believe his own words. He could tell that Bad didn’t believe them either, but neither of them mentioned that fact. Whether that was to conserve their voices and the little water they’d managed to drink, or to conserve their hope, neither of them really knew the answer. When they eventually came to a stop - both of them yawning too much to continue - the thought filled their minds again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What if something had happened to Niki while they’d been lost underground? What if they were already too late?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You can have the last orange.” Bad said, breaking Skeppy from his thoughts, and his words felt like a punch to the gut. Their last orange. Niki had been quick to send them on their way, assembling almost everything in arms reach for the pair to take with them, but their supplies had gradually dwindled. They’d tried to make them last but without any way of telling how much time had passed - their phones still in Manburg and not a single beam of sunlight permeating the dingy tunnels - rationing was difficult. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And this was their last piece of food. They had no idea if they were going to get out soon, they had no idea if they were close, they just knew that they only had one orange left.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not hungry.” Skeppy said, ignoring his grumbling stomach. “You can have it.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not hungry either.” Bad replied. “I suppose we can save it.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“For when we get out tomorrow.” Skeppy tried to inject a little hope into their short conversation, and Bad forced a smile for him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He looked so much more tired than he had done before.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Skeppy…” Bad said quietly, shifting where he sat so he leaned against one of the walls. If they were following the tunnels as Niki had told them to, then they should be beneath the mountains right about now. It would explain why everything was so </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>cold </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>all of the time. Being beneath the mountains in the middle of winter with only the thin layer of clothing on their backs was hardly a sensible way to spend a number of days - and even less so when those days were spent without adequate food or water.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, Bad?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you.” He whispered, and Skeppy nodded softly. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you too.” He responded, letting the smallest of smiles creep onto his face. “And I’ll tell you that tomorrow, too.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I just need you to know in case tomorrow--”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tomorrow will be fine. We’ll be out of here tomorrow. Have you ever been to Pogtopia?” He tried changing the subject, and Bad shook his head.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>beautiful. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>I went there once as a kid with my family, the mountains look so much prettier on the Province’s side, especially in the winter. You can watch the sunset over them if you’re lucky, and on a clear night when the stars begin to appear… It’s perfect. We’ll be there soon.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can you tell me more about it?” Bad asked, his voice wavering slightly, and Skeppy nodded. He got to his feet briefly, shifting so that he was sitting beside Bad rather than opposite him. As soon as he’d crossed his legs, Bad rested his head on Skeppy’s lap and Skeppy began to run his fingers through his soft, light brown locks.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course I can.” He whispered affectionately, before beginning to recount one of his many tales. “One day on that holiday we went to the beach, it was November and the water was freezing, but I still went in.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bad closed his eyes and as Skeppy continued to talk, continued the motion of fingers through hair, his concern only grew further. He’d never seen Bad like this before - so quiet, so weak, so needy for reassurance and comfort. Bad wasn’t always particularly loud or outspoken, but he </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>always </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>knew what to do. If you asked him for a solution to a problem, he could always present one. Whatever was happening, he could use logic to solve things and get out of any situation, no matter how horrible or how ridiculous. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But right now, he couldn’t. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you.” Skeppy said, hearing Bad humming in return. He sounded halfway asleep already, something that Skeppy tried to take solace in. Sleep would give him his strength back, and they both desperately needed as much energy as possible to help navigate their way out of the labyrinth of tunnels. If they’d had just a little more time with Niki they could have asked for more directions, but everything had happened so quickly that they just had to run. It had been their only chance, and even if they were stuck down here Skeppy was glad they’d taken it. If they’d stayed put in Manburg, Skeppy was certain they would have met a much crueller fate. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow - when they woke up - would be a new day. They’d both feel better. They’d share that last orange and they’d find their way out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Except when they woke up things didn’t follow the plan in Skeppy’s head. Bad was somehow even weaker than before, he refused to eat at all, and the two had made slow progress. By the time there was a light at the end of the tunnel, by the time they could </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>see </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>other people, Skeppy was almost the only thing keeping Bad from falling.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello?” He’d called out, his voice raspy and quieter than he wanted it to be, but it got the attention of someone. Skeppy had no idea if it was the Captain, he had no idea if they’d even made it to Pogtopia - there was every chance that they’d just gotten turned around and had returned to Manburg - but at this point he didn’t care. Whoever was there, their very presence meant they weren’t going to die in the tunnels.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The next few minutes were a blur. Bad was on the floor - Skeppy remembered wanting to cry but being too dehydrated to shed a single tear - and then he was being told to climb up a ladder. The bright light was blinding, burning his retinas after days of almost complete darkness. It was cold, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>so cold. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>He was leaning against a man - a Prince, he would later discover - named Ranboo. He heard sirens, he was in an ambulance, he felt something pricking his hand and winced just a little, and then he woke up.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad!” Skeppy was distracted from his story by the feeling of fingers tightening around his hand. A quick glance away from Minx and Ranboo confirmed one very important thing: Bad had woken up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Geppy?” His voice was still different than usual, but now from disuse rather than from dehydration. Skeppy couldn’t deny the way it filled his heart and soul with relief, and at the confused tone he let out a breathless laugh. This was closer to the Bad he knew and loved, he was going to be</span>
  <em>
    <span>fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Where are we?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pogtopia.” He whispered, squeezing his hand as tightly as he dared. “We made it. We’re safe. People are going to help us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll see what we can do.” Ranboo interrupted. “I don’t want to burst your bubble, but I don’t want to give either of you false hope either. What you’ve told us… It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it’s awful if it’s true, but I can’t guarantee that the rest of the world will take testimonial as solid enough evidence to do something”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat before Skeppy turned to face Ranboo, his heart stopping for a moment, and he blinked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s processes we need to go through. We can’t just march into Manburg with guns and make everything right, that’s a war crime. We have to negotiate first, we have to try and sort things out without violence, we need concrete evidence of what’s happened and we need enough evidence to prove to the rest of the world that any action taken is justified and proportional. I want to help you, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, but I can’t promise that it’s going to be as easy as you think it is.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But… But you </span>
  <em>
    <span>promised </span>
  </em>
  <span>you could stop him!” Skeppy said, his voice raising just a little, and Ranboo raised a gloved hand and nodded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” He said. “And I will. I just don’t want you thinking that it’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy swallowed. He wanted to say something more, but he didn’t quite know what. Ranboo’s words had left him speechless.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll be free to stay here as long as you need.” Ranboo said, his voice straining just a little as he pushed himself to his feet. “This is the royal hospital, and as far as I’m concerned the two of you are our guests. While you’re here I’ll speak with the King to work out any arrangements that need making, I’ll have the Captain reassigned to keep watch over both of you.” He hummed for a moment, thinking to himself as he readjusted the gloves on his hands. “The last thing we want is any of this getting out to the media. If anyone other than Minx or I asks you about what happened, don’t say anything. While the two of you are recovering, we’ll control everything. When you’re out of hospital it might be a little harder to keep this to ourselves but… We’ll see how it goes. Take it one day at a time. Right now, you two just need to focus on getting better.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo pulled down his mask and offered both men a smile, trying his hardest not to blame himself for the looks on their faces. He knew it was better he tell them now, rather than let them get their hopes up for something that was entirely impossible. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Captain Minx, go home. I’ll speak to your Major and have you reassigned here. I’ll get him to deploy Captain Noah here, too, to ensure that there’s round the clock observation.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Your Highness.” Minx nodded promptly, and the two exchanged a salute as she left the ward that the two men were on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll give you both some privacy. I’ll speak to my uncle now and tomorrow I’ll return with whatever news I have. We can discuss things further then. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I am at your service.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a quiet nod, Ranboo understood that Bad and Skeppy had accepted his words. They needed time to recover now, and he was more than happy to give them that space. With one final, kind smile he left their room, closing the door behind him, and began to walk through the corridors of the hospital.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was hours late. His uncle wouldn’t be happy. But the gut feeling in his stomach had been right, he’d done something good, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>had a lead. Maybe now he would be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do something </span>
  </em>
  <span>about the situation in Manburg. Maybe, finally, he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>help people. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # # </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ranboo… We’ve been over this.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uncle, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo stepped toward the King’s throne desperately, only stopping when Karl held up a hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand that you want to help.” He said, his voice gentle. Sometimes, Ranboo wondered why the line of succession fell to him. Karl was much more regal, much more proper, and he’d been the Regent King since his parents had died. It made </span>
  <em>
    <span>sense </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he remained the King even after Ranboo was old enough to take on the crown. “But foreign affairs shouldn’t be your main focus. Your priority should be your Kingdom, </span>
  <em>
    <span>your people.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We have a Government for that.” Ranboo waved his hand. “We have systems in place. We’re nothing more than figureheads of days gone by.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ranboo, you shouldn’t--”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>power, if we don’t just have these roles and these palaces for image, why don’t we do something to help people? There are people a few miles away from us </span>
  <em>
    <span>suffering </span>
  </em>
  <span>because a tyrant has taken over, people we can </span>
  <em>
    <span>help! </span>
  </em>
  <span>We moved our Court to Rutabagville so we could be closer to the people that need us, I know you wouldn’t just do such a thing because you believed it would sway public opinion. You care just as much as I do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I do, but you know it’s not that easy.” Karl replied. “Ranboo, I know you want to do the right thing here, but without any evidence--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I’ve already explained it to Bad and Skeppy. We need enough evidence for other people to believe us, we need to try and negotiate, we have a thousand different hoops to jump through, but we </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to help them. You’re King now, uncle, let </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>do this. You can focus on our people and our country, let me concentrate on this. Let me do this and prove to you, to our people, to the world that when I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>King I won’t let borders stop me from protecting people. Let me prove that I’m going to be a King that cares, regardless of sides or allegiances. I don’t want people to suffer when I can prevent it.”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo held his ground. He knew that if he persisted long enough, his uncle would have no choice but to back down. Karl might be the King, he might have the best interests of his nephew at heart, but Ranboo didn’t care. Public appearance be damned, this was more important. He could work on his relationship with his subjects another time. If he was right, if he managed to help these people, they would understand. They would see what he had done and they would trust that no matter what happened, he would be able to protect them too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll discuss this tomorrow.” Karl said with a tired sigh. “I believe you have a day's worth of duties to perform this afternoon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t a no. For now, Ranboo would take it as a victory.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, your Majesty.” He replied, a smile on his face. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, and Ranboo?” Karl began, prompting the Prince’s smile to fade. He watched his uncle for a moment longer, his mind worrying about what could be said to him, before the King continued.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Make sure you’re on time for dinner tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo grinned. That was much better than he was expecting. With a simple bow, he nodded his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll try my best, your Majesty.” He said, providing his uncle with a wink when he stood up straight again, and as Karl let out a sweet laugh he could tell that the tension from before had quickly melted away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have your head if you are!” The King called after him, his tone light and airy, and as Ranboo approached the door he just chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think it tastes quite as nice as steak. Take care, King Karl.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Be safe, Prince Ranboo.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Tabloids</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hannah trod slowly up the hill path, gloved hands holding her sides as she wrapped her arms around herself and held her coat tighter to her skin. The front that had swept in overnight had brought with it a bitter cold and deep piles of snow, but despite that she still intended on making the walk out of the city and toward the tree that Schlatt had planted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the twelfth now. It was nearly a month since Schlatt had planted the tree - in an over the top ceremony that Hannah had heard about, but not attended - and nearly three weeks since Niki had carved into the plaque that labeled it. Hannah </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Schlatt had replaced it as soon as he’d become aware of it, he’d made it </span>
  <em>
    <span>very clear </span>
  </em>
  <span>that anything against his Government was to be removed as soon as possible. As snow crunched beneath her feet and her breath fogged in front of her face, Hannah cast her mind back to the most recent and most obvious example of that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Niki had been arrested on Thursday. It was Monday now and no one had heard from her or seen her since. There’d been no announcement by the Government of a trial, or a prison sentence, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Niki had, as far as Hannah was aware, vanished into thin air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And with a Government like Schlatt’s in charge, it hardly filled her with confidence about the fate of her… Friend? Acquaintance? Martyr? She’d met Niki in person once and had no idea what she was supposed to call the only woman that dared to stand up to Schlatt. Nothing quite seemed like enough to describe her accurately.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite only meeting Niki once, she’d clearly done enough already to scare Schlatt. She’d done enough to make Schlatt </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>that she was a threat. It meant that Niki was onto something, and that meant they couldn’t let the opportunity she’d given them slip away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Them, </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the small number of people that had shown up in her bakery a little over a week ago. They hadn’t spoken since. The meetings were supposed to be weekly, every Friday, but after Niki’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>very public </span>
  </em>
  <span>arrest on the Thursday just gone no one had dared to meet. The curfew would have made it almost impossible to visit under the cover of darkness, but the risks were too high to meet during the day. With every day that passed, meeting became safer, but if they waited too long they risked missing their chance completely. Not only that, but it was another day without a word about Niki. Another day without knowing if she was dead or alive, if she was safe or if Schlatt and his goonies had broken her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A strong gust of wind picked up the top layer of snow and moved the flakes several inches east as Hannah approached the tree. No one else was there, which made perfect sense: the excitement of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tree of Manburg </span>
  </em>
  <span>had died down quickly and the temperature had convinced even the least sane of people to stay tucked up indoors by a fire. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Hannah finally came to a stop she looked down at the plaque. It was covered in a thin layer of ice, shiny and new, and devoid of Niki’s engraving.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Part of her wanted to do it all over again, to replace what had been taken away in an act of defiance, but she thought it over before she dared to reach into her pocket for something sharp. If she defaced the plaque then word would eventually get back to the Government, to Schlatt, and while there was no one there to know that she was the one to have done it, the very existence of more graffiti would be proof enough that there was still a quiet opposition to Schlatt in the populace. If there was going to be a movement, it needed to be silent. Schlatt needed to think that he’d already won. He needed to let his guard down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah turned her back to the tree and looked out over the city, sighing and watching her breath fade away into nothing. She looked over the country before her, covered in a thick layer of snow from where she stood all the way down to the ocean, and she went back to her previous stance. With her arms wrapped tightly around her once more she closed her eyes and let herself embrace the chill in the air, let herself relax into it and think of the place her family came from. Snowchester was like a second home to her, her parents had been sure to raise her with their culture in mind. From childhood her head was full of stories, of folklore and fairytales, of songs and poems. She’d visited a couple of times and the snow before her reminded her of the country that her parents had emigrated from, enough that the songs she’d heard returned to her mind and she caught herself humming a familiar melody.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn’t listened to the song in years - since her mother had sung her to sleep when she was a child - and alone on the hill felt like the perfect place to quietly remind herself of what it sounded like.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Let me tell it to you now, you’re stronger than the wind. If they ever let you down, the winter would set in.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The song didn’t end there, but she felt herself laughing at the irony of it. It felt like the song perfectly encompassed what she was going through - that the world had let down Niki and a fierce winter storm had swept in almost overnight. She sometimes wondered if the tales of old Gods had any truth to them - she didn’t personally follow any religion, but she knew that many in Snowchester still worshipped them - and this felt like fairly convincing evidence that they did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Hannah’s laughter subsided, she realised that the song gave her hope. Niki was so much stronger than she knew - she’d only met her once and already knew she was a formidable, brave, determined woman - Schlatt arresting her wouldn’t be enough to stop her. It didn’t mean she could do it all alone, but she would make it out and when she did Hannah would be waiting for her with the revolution she’d set in motion ready to stand by her side and do as they were told. Niki would, without a doubt, be the one to lead them to freedom, but she could help with the preparations. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a newfound burst of confidence, Hannah began to walk back down the slope. She wasn’t sure what she’d walked to the tree for - some space, some time to think, or possible some reassurance - but a plan to revive Niki’s rebellion wasn’t what she thought would come of it. She didn’t know what fate Bad and Skeppy had met after Niki’s arrest, nor did she know anything of Ant or Velvet, but there were still four people from the meeting that she could try to track down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Connor, Sam, Alyssa and Jack. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Between them, they could carry on in Niki’s absence and grow support for the cause. Hope spurred her on, and before she knew it the snow covered dirt path had twisted through trees and fences to lead back into the suburbs. The paths here were somewhat cleared and it became easier to navigate without slipping or sliding, so she let her excitement get the better of her and broke out into a run. They could do this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She could do this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was a bright, wide smile on her face as her brain came up with idea after idea. It wasn’t impossible to do this by any stretch of the imagination.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course there was a small issue, the fact that she didn’t know where in the city she could find her fellow revolutionaries, but that would be overcome. Just because the city was big didn’t mean she’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>mind them, it just meant it would take time. Her plan was in motion now and she wasn’t going to let a little hard work stand in the way of her and success. As she skidded around her fifth corner and the height of the buildings started to climb as she made her way further into the city she had her mind set on one place to go to before beginning her search. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t visit Niki, but she didn’t need to. Just because Niki wasn’t physically with them didn’t mean her spirit wasn’t, and her spirit was practically embedded in the walls of her bakery. Her family had owned it for generations, that bakery was just as much </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>as Niki was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>It was for that reason, Hannah told herself as she started to slow down, that she probably should’ve expected</span> <span>what she saw.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The beautiful old building that she had lived in was terribly damaged. The door that had been broken down during her arrest hadn’t been replaced, and now instead of hanging from the hinges it was completely gone. Some of the glass and wood remained broken on the floor, but most had been taken. The flowers that grew during the spring and summer weren’t in their usual state of hibernation, but completely destroyed. They’d been uprooted and cast aside with soil thrown across the fresh snow. Clearly, that had been done recently.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The windows were smashed, the walls were covered in spray paint, and even from outside it was obvious to see that the interior hadn’t fared any better. Niki might have been arrested but this building was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The bakery was hers, her home was hers, they’d been in her family for generations and seeing the damage that had been done to such an important piece of history - even if it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>history - broke Hannah’s heart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t know what state Niki was in, wherever she was, but she hoped that she was in a better condition than her home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah stiffened at the interruption for a moment, expecting that she would be alone, but then quickly relaxed. She recognised the voice. It was one of a friend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” She replied, her shoulders falling again as she turned her head to look back. Sam stood nearly a foot taller than her and looked down with a mixture of concern and upset - something that she assumed her face mirrored almost perfectly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After sharing a moment of eye contact Sam’s eyes looked back to the building and Hannah returned her own gaze to it. With the amount of damage that had been done and with Niki arrested it was almost as if the building was </span>
  <em>
    <span>sad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She could feel the history in it crying out to help.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you?” Sam asked, his voice flat, and Hannah shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.” There was a beat. “How are you?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine too.” She heard him shifting behind her, his feet crunching the snow lightly, before her head dropped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to give up.” She said quietly. There was no one else around them, but in the silence of the city there was no telling how far her voice could carry and who might hear her. “I understand if you want to take a step back, I get it completely, but I’m not going to give up.” Hannah was firm in her words, turning on her heels so her full body faced Sam. “Niki needs </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>to carry on her work, I’m volunteering myself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was another silence, and Sam let out a breath as he looked away from the building and back down to her. Hannah was certain she knew what that meant, she was certain he was about to say no. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>do it alone if she had to, she’d pick up where Niki had left off, but she’d much rather have someone by her side. Maybe one of the others--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you like to come for coffee?” He asked her eventually, and Hannah furrowed her brows together curiously as she looked up at him. “Back at mine. I’m not really sure the street is the best place to chat about this sort of thing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That wasn’t a no at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah let the look of confusion fade off her face, she let herself replace it with a wide smile as she had done before, and she nodded. The cold of the winter seemed to have disappeared with the offer and her heart warmed. Maybe she wouldn’t be doing this alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Coffee sounds nice.” She agreed. In turn, Sam smiled back at her, and he shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets as she gestured before them both with one arm. “Lead the way.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would love to.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Monday brought with it fresh snow, crisp air and a cold wind. The Province was firmly in winter’s grasp but no one seemed to slow down. In fact, after the events of the day before Ranboo found that it was quite the opposite.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He found out, as he ate breakfast, that rumours were spreading fast online. He had thought that he and Minx had been alone when they’d brought Bad and Skeppy down from the border and into the hospital, but clearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>had spotted the four of them for long enough to snap a photo. It was blurry and the four of them were small, but the fact that he was a Prince meant that everyone looking at the photo knew exactly who he was. There wasn’t a soul in Pogtopia that </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>know his face. Social media had spread the image far and wide in a matter of hours, and overnight all the tabloids and less reputable newspapers had spiralled theories of what had happened. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, gossip had been spreading about the neighbouring country since they’d closed their borders months back, and now having the Prince and a Captain bringing two men from the border into the city was only going to add fuel to the imaginations of the people of Pogtopia. Ranboo couldn’t blame the people for being curious, it was only natural, but it did mean that as soon as he’d finished his food he was pulling on a long winter coat and hurrying out of the Court without so much as a goodbye to his uncle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The hospital was utterly surrounded by the press. Members of the military - beyond just Noah and Minx - were standing guard to keep anyone from making their way inside, but Ranboo had to do little more than nod to the General to be allowed past their barricade and into the building. He could hear the shouts of journalists trying to get his attention, but ignored them as he stepped over the threshold. He made a mental note to speak with them on the way out - for now he needed to speak with Bad and Skeppy about the situation they found themselves in. When the doors closed behind him he wiped his boots on the doormat, trying to knock the bulk of the snow from the sides rather than bringing it any further inside. From there it was a walk along the corridor, past the reception desk and toward the elevator. He pressed the call button and waited, closing his eyes for a moment and letting his head fall back, before the elevator arrived and he stepped inside. He pressed another button to take him to the fourth floor and watched as the doors closed. Ranboo wasn’t sure if the elevator music made the time go by faster or slower, but when he stepped out he was certainly humming along to it, and he supposed that was something.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A few moments and two right turns later, Ranboo was standing outside Bad’s room. He paused for a moment, listening for any noise coming from inside, before raising a fist and rapping with his knuckles against the door to announce his presence before he pushed it open and entered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the brief warning he’d given of his arrival, he still opened the door quick enough to see Bad and Skeppy jumping apart. As far as Ranboo knew they had nothing to hide, but he didn’t know the true extent of what life had been like inside the borders of Manburg. Maybe, eventually, Bad and Skeppy would open up to him a little more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning.” He said, clicking the door shut behind him as the pair settled once again. “How are you feeling today?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Better.” Skeppy replied.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Much </span>
  </em>
  <span>better.” Bad added. “Thank you. We’ll never be able to repay you for your kindness.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m supposed to be the King one day, if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>kind then I’m not sure I’d make a very good one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Skeppy!” Bad gasped. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>told me he was a Prince!” And Skeppy broke out into a laugh, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to treat me any differently. I’m not the biggest fan of all the protocol that comes with being </span>
  <em>
    <span>royal, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m just like the two of you.” He assured them, making his way further into the room and sitting himself on a chair by the window. “I spoke to my uncle last night.” He began, the chair creaking just a little beneath his weight. “We were supposed to discuss it further this morning, but someone took a photo of the four of us coming down from the mountain yesterday morning and… Well the press has run with the story. There’s pictures of both of you plastered all over social media, all over the news, it’s gone global. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>knows you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone…” Bad breathed, and Skeppy had been stunned into silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Overnight we’ve had calls from the embassy, if you want to go home then as soon as you’re well enough to be discharged from hospital you’ll be on a plane.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo paused, leaning back and looking out the window to give the two men a moment to think his offer over. He knew that it wasn’t the sort of thing they would be able to immediately come to a conclusion to, and he didn’t want to rush them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What if we want to stay?” Skeppy asked. “You said you’d help us stop Schlatt. If we leave--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you leave, I’ll still do what I can.” Ranboo reassured him. “It might be less effective, but I won’t stop. The two of you have clearly been through some </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful </span>
  </em>
  <span>things, it would be completely understandable if you wanted to go home and be with your families, be</span>
  <em>
    <span> safe.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But that might mean that people would refuse to take action against what Schlatt’s doing, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Ranboo said bluntly, not bothering to sugar coat the truth. “There’s a chance that, without any proof, people will simply write it off and ignore it. There are some countries on his side and without proper, substantive evidence of crimes they will continue to block any action. If you aren’t here, if you aren’t helping, then things may just remain the same.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I’m staying.” Skeppy said firmly, not needing a moment to consider. “We have friends in that country. Niki, a woman from a bakery, kept us safe. She kept us fed even when that meant she went hungry and she tried to take down Schlatt. The only reason we’re here now, is because they came to arrest her and she gave us food and directions to the border. I’m not turning my back on her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll stay too.” Bad agreed. “There’s too many people that need to be helped. Niki organised one meeting with a group of people that didn’t trust Schlatt before she was arrested, if there’s a chance that they could be supported from outside Manburg then we </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>to take it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright.” Ranboo nodded. “I’ll speak with the embassy. I assume they’ll want to confirm your stance with you directly, we’ll arrange for an interview after you’re discharged if that’s the case. As far as I’m concerned you’ll be coming to stay in the Court. Please don’t worry about formalities, don’t worry about anything. I’ll sort it all out. I do need to know what you’d like me to say to the press, I don’t think I’m going to get out of here without giving </span>
  <em>
    <span>some kind </span>
  </em>
  <span>of statement.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bad and Skeppy looked between each other for a moment, and Ranboo watched as they managed to silently communicate to each other. He wondered just how long they’d known each other to be able to do something like that. He hoped that it had kept the two of them sane while they’d endured what had sounded like hell.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell them we’re safe.” Bad said. “Make sure our families know we miss them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell them that we’ll be home as soon as we can, but that we’re here to do the right thing. That we won’t let the people of Manburg down.” Skeppy added.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to tell them anything about what you went through?” He asked. “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>the tabloids, but getting the story out might start to put pressure on Manburg.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Bad responded quickly. “Not yet. I-if that’s okay? I want to tell that story. I want people to hear it from me, from </span>
  <em>
    <span>us, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for them to believe </span>
  <em>
    <span>us. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And I don’t want things getting into Manburg before we can take action against them. They arrested Niki, if they don’t already know she was harbouring us then this could put her in more danger.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” Ranboo smiled gently at the pair. “We’ll talk later. You’re both looking much better, I can’t imagine it’ll be long before you’re out of hospital. I’ll give the press a few lines now, I’ll talk to the embassy and my uncle, and when you’re ready to be discharged I’ll have a car sent to pick you up if I can’t make it myself. We’ll try to keep you both out of the limelight for a few more days, give you some time to adjust to living in a free society again before bringing you out for the world to see. There’s a military presence keeping reporters out, you’ll be safe here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After exchanging pleasantries, the Prince left the two in peace again. He was content with the direction that things were progressing, even if it had only been a day since the pair had arrived in Pogtopia, and as he took the elevator back down to the ground floor he let himself smile in the distorted reflection of the metal doors before him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he stepped out he straightened his back, his tie, and brushed his gloved hands over his coat. The press would photograph him and record him, his face would be broadcast in almost every nation in the world within a matter of minutes, he hardly wanted to look disheveled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before the door had even opened he could hear the shouts of reporters that saw him through the glass, and when he stepped out onto the brick pavement (free of snow thanks to a canopy overhead) the yelling only became louder. The Prince approached the General, whispering into his ear quietly until the man nodded. He took two steps back and stood with his hands in front of him, fingers woven together, and listened to the man shout to be heard over the crowd.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright!” He began, his voice carrying and people swiftly quietening down. “His Highness, Prince Ranboo of the Province of Galeetopia, would like to make a statement. There’ll be no questions at this time, but a formal press conference will be organised as soon as his Highnesses diary permits.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rather than shouts of questions or his name, Ranboo watched as the reporters scrambled to the front of the barrier that had been erected with microphones in hand and cameras pointing at him. Those that were there without news teams held out dictaphones and notepads, and he rolled his shoulders back before he began to speak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for being here today.” He started, scanning the crowd to ensure that at some point he spoke directly to each camera facing him. “I know that over the last day there have been many rumours about the photograph that was circulated online, and I can confirm that yesterday morning one of our brave soldiers found two men by the mountainous border of Manburg and the Province. These men were not Pogtopians, nor were they Manburgians, but they were men that have been stuck in the country since the borders closed in August. I cannot confirm nor deny if they were the only foreigners still to be in the secretive country as I only have the information they have provided to go on, but I can confirm that the two men are safe and well and that they are recovering in hospital.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can also confirm that this is not an incident that will be treated in isolation. The continued rhetoric of Manburg’s Government to refuse to open their borders and be transparent about the state of affairs is unacceptable, and it is a cause of great concern. I understand that the people of Pogtopia will, one day, look to me as their leader, and I want the people to know that I will fight for them. What is important to me, what I </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe </span>
  </em>
  <span>should be important to us all, is that Human life is protected.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From the canopy above, a drop of meltwater fell onto Ranboo’s cheek. While the pain was minimal, the shock made him jump, and he had to fight to restrain himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No matter where someone comes from, no matter who they are or what they have done, I believe that people should be protected. I hope that over the coming days, weeks and months as I fight for the freedoms of our neighbours you will see a future King that you trust to fight for you when you require protection.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will be speaking this afternoon to the embassy. The two men inside, who I will not name, have requested to stay in our country to help with this cause. I hope that you will all accept them and embrace them with open arms, I hope that you will treat them like one of our own and that you will listen to the story that they have to tell. Thank you kindly for your time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He raised a hand to excuse himself, and despite the General already telling everyone that he would be making a statement rather than taking questions he still heard shouts. They were only doing their jobs, he couldn’t blame them for wanting to get more out of him, but he continued on his walk whilst the military kept them behind the barrier. Once he had more information from Bad and Skeppy, once they were recovered and safe and </span>
  <em>
    <span>comfortable </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the full extent of their story being told, then he would speak more openly to people.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But for now he had work to do, and that work started at the embassy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ant sat in the canteen on Tuesday morning staring at the empty space across the table from him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t seen Velvet in far too long. It had been almost a week, they’d spoken on Thursday morning and Velvet had given no indication of what his day would hold, and Ant was worried. Niki had been arrested on Thursday and Velvet had been there. He’d heard it down the grapevine, and eventually been shown videos by his commanding officer at the same time as the rest of his training cohort.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Velvet had been the one to handcuff Niki. He had been the one to lead her through Manburg and hold her in place beside Schlatt on stage as he made an example out of her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In Ant’s eyes, there were only two options. Either Velvet had been completely caught off guard with the request to take part in her arrest and had no choice but to comply, or he had been threatened. Ant was no idiot, they’d interviewed him and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>that they’d be asking questions of Velvet too, but he assumed that they knew nothing. When he played dumb they had believed him, and no one had followed up with him since. He hoped that meant that Velvet had simply been asked to take part at the eleventh hour and that he wasn’t in any kind of trouble himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>imagine </span>
  </em>
  <span>that this was the sort of thing Velvet would do if he felt he had a choice. Velvet was on their side, he was just as concerned by the actions of the Schlatt administration as the rest of them, and he had been their friend since childhood. It had been the three of them against the world, things wouldn’t change </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>easily. Not seeing Velvet for several days had only reaffirmed his stance that this wasn’t something he had chosen to do. Maybe behind closed doors he had taken a stand, maybe he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> now in trouble too, or maybe if he had been threatened and he’d complied with their demands they had simply broken their promises. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Surely, though, if something had happened he would know by now. Even if he found out through an announcement from the General that one of their own had been against the Government, something </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>have been said, right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His chin was resting in his hands and he couldn’t eat as his mind continued to spiral, and he was only pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a tray being placed down on the table opposite him. He didn’t recognise the person before him immediately, his mind still full of worry for Velvet, but then he cleared his throat and he blinked until his vision was focused again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello stranger.” Velvet smiled, and Ant let out a gasp. “Funny seeing you here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Velvet!” He wanted to shout, but he couldn’t. Their relationship was a secret from these people - it was something that they couldn’t afford to be known for fear it would one day be used against them. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>His whispers were full to the brim with excitement and he found himself beaming so widely that his cheeks hurt. “I haven’t seen you since--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Velvet’s smile lessened in response. “I know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened? Did they hurt you? Were you threatened? Is Niki okay?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The smile completely vanished from Velvet’s face during the onslaught of questions that Ant asked, and he took that as a hint to stop. While the other sat across from him began to slowly eat, clearly deep in thought, Ant couldn’t. This wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>Velvet, certainly not after being apart for so long. He was worried beyond his wildest dreams and he used the time to cast his eyes over every inch of his body. There were no obvious bruises or scars, no cuts - bandaged or otherwise - and his posture was the same as it always was. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>hurt, but he knew that Schlatt and his Government were entirely capable of causing horrifying mental damage. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” He asked instead, and Velvet just nodded in response. “Say it aloud, I need to hear it from you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” Velvet replied. “How are you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ant swallowed. His voice had been utterly devoid of emotion and he knew for a fact that Velvet </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>fine. The questions he’d asked had clearly brought something up that he didn’t want to think about.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” He said. “But whatever it is, you know I’m here for you right? We’re in this together. And I know that… I know Niki is gone and things might seem </span>
  <em>
    <span>scary </span>
  </em>
  <span>without her leadership, but we can still do this together. We can still figure things out and spread discontent among the ranks, we can still convince people to be disloyal to Schlatt. We might need some time to organise things but--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s over, Ant.” Velvet told him. “Whatever you think we’re going to be able to do, we can’t. It’s over.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ant paused for a beat, his heart sinking in his chest. He felt sick to his stomach and he stared at Velvet for several long moments as the man before him continued to eat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Velvet…” He began slowly. “What </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened </span>
  </em>
  <span>when Niki was arrested to make you think that it’s over. She’s okay, isn’t she? I mean, she’s arrested but she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The cause isn’t dead, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>isn’t dead, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Velvet chewed his food slowly, swallowing and reaching for a drink rather than replying immediately.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Velvet-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I told them.” He said, looking up and staring Ant dead in the eye. “I told them about her plans. I helped them arrest her. I did what--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You did </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ant’s hands collided with the table, any thoughts of being quiet completely leaving his mind as rage flashed before him. He only calmed down when he realised that he’d attracted attention from the other soldiers in the canteen, and he only relaxed as people began to look away once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I told the General, the Secretary of Justice and the Secretary of Communities about Niki’s plans. I told them about the papers they confiscated on the night of the census. I told them about her distrust in Schlatt and the military, about her thing for Wilbur, I told them everything they wanted to know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did they threaten you?” Ant asked, and Velvet shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not me, no.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So why did you tell them?! What are they doing to her?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you that.” Velvet said, his eyes casting back down to his food. “You ought to stay out of this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How the hell am I supposed to stay out of this? My boyfriend just sold out our best friend to a country she was actively working against, and then he played an integral role in her arrest, and now he’s just talking as if everything is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He scoffed. “What did they do to you?! This isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>like you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Velvet.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know?” Velvet asked, and Ant was certain that anyone looking at him at that moment could see his heart breaking. It was written on his face, it was written in the shaking of his hands and the quickening of his breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because in the decade and a half we’ve known each other you’ve always been good, and kind, and devoted. Because you would never just </span>
  <em>
    <span>betray </span>
  </em>
  <span>Niki. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or </span>
  </em>
  <span>me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a lie.” Velvet said, looking up again. And while Ant felt as if knives had been plunged into his stomach and twisted around, Velvet barely even looked bothered by the conversation. While Ant held back tears, Velvet just continued to spoon cereal into his mouth. “And you’re wrong about something else, too.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>else </span>
  </em>
  <span>am I wrong about? Are you going to tell me that you’ve never cared about me? That this whole thing was a mistake? Are you going to tell me that you’ve been lying to me my entire life and that this whole thing was a game to you?” His voice wavered, he couldn’t control himself. He knew that in a matter of minutes he’d leave the situation and have to go to his training, that he’d have to pretend none of this had happened, and he didn’t know how he was going to go about doing that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t going to use quite so many words…” Velvet started to speak, and the way that he dragged out the last syllable told Ant that he still had more to say but he wasn’t going to hang around to listen to it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He got to his feet, grabbed the tray of uneaten food, and bit down as hard as he could on his lip to stop any more emotions from tumbling out. He needed to pull himself together before someone saw him and figured out what was going on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.” He said forcefully, taking in a deep, shaky breath. “If that’s what you think, then </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I won’t take up any more of your time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Without another word - without a goodbye or an insult - Ant left. He left with his heart shattering and his empty stomach twisting into knots. He left with his lungs full of restrained sobs and his eyes full of unshed tears. As he marched away, heavy boots carrying him across the room with loud footsteps, Velvet let his head fall. He couldn’t pretend that it had been easy keeping of a facade of not caring, or that it had been easy to watch Ant walk away with so much pain on his face, but it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ant, now, was safe. He had no connection to Velvet, no reason to protect him and no reason to be investigated further by the General. He was safe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everything he’d done over the last week, he’d done to keep Ant safe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was just glad that in the end, it had all worked out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>happy saturday! back to weekly updates now, so i hope that you guys are ready. if you enjoyed, make sure to leave a kudos &amp; a comment. </p>
<p>am i sorry for that ending? no. no i am not. also, hannah &amp; sam supremacy? also also, the song that hannah sang is a real song, it's the latest release from one of my favourite bands, so stream <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gRgEjSkayUA">"unbreakable"</a> by keiino for clear skin :]</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Outside Looking In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With her arms at her sides and her heart in her throat, Hannah put one foot in front of her at a time and walked slowly toward the home of her friend. Sam lived in an apartment in the centre of the city which had made trying to plan this hell - it’s why an entire week had passed since they’d started - but she lived with her family and if they knew what she was up to they would hardly be pleased.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The only good that came from waiting so long was the fact that the curfew had been lifted, and they were free to visit others in the evening. With the days drawing in they could enter and leave in complete darkness and with a hood pulled over her head she knew that no people and no cameras would remember her face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rather than take the elevator up to the sixth floor Hannah made her way up the stairs. The building that Sam lived in was relatively modern compared to the rest in his neighbourhood, but it was still decades old. It was built before proper regulations came into place, before the Government put in laws to stop the old buildings being knocked down for new developments, and it meant that her feet scuffed over uneven concrete as she climbed higher. It wasn’t the same as meeting in Niki’s cafe with all its history and meaning, but it was the best they could do on such short notice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Knocking on the door - three times, then waiting a beat, then twice more quickly - Hannah could hear the sounds of keys twisting in locks and chains unhooking before the door came open to welcome her. She was the last to arrive, they’d been careful to advise everyone to arrive at slightly different times to avoid any suspicions being cast on the flat. When she locked eyes with Sam they shared a moment of sadness - silence filled with unspoken words and perfect understanding - and then their faces shifted so their features reflected determination. They’d come this far, everyone was in one place at one time and those in power believed that any thoughts of revolution had been quelled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Hannah walked inside, Sam closed the door and the sound caused the other inhabitants of the home to look up. Alyssa sat on an old sofa beside a man that Hannah didn’t recognise, but assumed that he was her </span>
  <em>
    <span>plus one: </span>
  </em>
  <span>Callahan, an old friend. Beside them, sitting at a small table, were Connor and Jack, who’d been deep in discussion but had now stopped talking. With four pairs of eyes on her Hannah shrugged her coat from over her shoulders and she heard footsteps behind her as Sam approached with an outstretched arm. His hand placed itself on her shoulder, fingers squeezing ever so slightly as if to reassure her (though she expected that the contact was more to reassure himself).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a long moment of quiet stretched out for far too long, Hannah heard Sam clear his throat and take in a breath to speak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously, we should address the elephant in the room.” He said bluntly, and the four sitting in front of them nodded slowly. “Niki’s no longer with us. We’ve all seen videos of her arrest, we’ve all heard Schlatt’s speech… Neither Hannah or I know what’s happened to her, though admittedly it’s difficult to ask about her fate without sounding like we’re on her side. We hope - and we </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe </span>
  </em>
  <span>- that she’s still alive. If they were going to kill her then we’d like to think that they’d make an example out of her again, that they’d want to use her death to scare people into toeing the line. Because of that, we think she’s still a prisoner.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa, Callahan, Connor and Jack nodded and Hannah leaned over. The coat she’d shrugged off, still in her hand, was thrown over the back of the sofa and she leaned her hands against the cushion between Alyssa and Callahan.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not giving up.” She said firmly. “Niki won’t have given up, so we can’t either. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>that something is happening - it’s why we all came together in the first place - and with Niki in prison it’s our job to continue her work from out here. When she comes out, because if she’s alive we </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>find a way to bring her back to us, she’ll take charge. She’ll shout out to the world and the world will come to her. People will help. Her message will spread like a wildfire and no one will be able to look the other way. For now, we need to do what we can to spread the word and keep the embers of change alive.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to start somewhere though.” Sam began. “So tonight--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“--Wait.” Alyssa spoke up, cutting Sam off before he could get out another word and the eyes that had been on Hannah turned to her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alyssa?” Hannah asked. “Is everything alright?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I know what they’re doing to Niki.” She said, and Hannah found herself sharing a gaze with the younger woman. “And if I’m right, it’ll be your turn soon Hannah.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My turn?” She asked, straightening herself back up and bringing her arms across her chest. “What does that mean?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The healthcare reforms that everyone involved in the census kept speaking about, the treatment of women in general by Schlatt’s Government, isn’t it obvious?” Alyssa asked, and the others all shook their heads in unison. When they did, Hannah watched Alyssa’s face fall and her eyes scrunch up tightly. She whispered something to herself, as if she were casting a spell or summoning something, before her shoulders fell and with her eyes still tightly closed she spoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pregnant.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No one said a word. No one knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say, and Hannah was no different. The two statements were connected, and the only way they </span>
  <em>
    <span>could be </span>
  </em>
  <span>connected would be if something </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful </span>
  </em>
  <span>had happened. No one wanted to believe that could be the truth until it was confirmed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pregnant. Nearly a month pregnant. I know the exact day the baby was conceived.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was another silence but rather than continue to speak, Alyssa still seemed to be struggling. From where she was standing, Hannah could easily lean over and rest a comforting hand on her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” She said. “Take your time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“They did this to me.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was more venom in her response than Hannah had expected and she flinched, almost pulling her hand back, but she forced herself to remain where she was. Alyssa needed it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They turned a regular check up into… Into </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>without telling me. I didn’t know, I didn’t sign any forms, I wasn’t consulted, it just </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure--” Connor began, before he was swiftly silenced by glares from both Alyssa and Hannah. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So they impregnated you?” Hannah said bluntly, watching the soft curls on Alyssa’s head bounce as she nodded. “You think that was the health care reform they kept telling us about?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And I think it’s the plan for all of us. They only allowed men to sign up for the army, they want us to be at home so we can raise this next generation that Schlatt keeps going on about.” She threw up a hand, before leaning back in her seat. “How can he be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain </span>
  </em>
  <span>that they’ll be stronger? I get the whole evolution thing, survival of the fittest, but it’s not like we’re cavemen! We have society, we have structures that keep us safe, people that can’t run fast or jump high don’t die to mobs at night any more! Weaker genes aren’t just bred out - I don’t know what Schlatt thinks he’s doing that he’s going to create an army in a generation. How could he?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat as everyone processed Alyssa’s words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then there was another beat where everyone processed the events of the last few months.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And when everyone remembered when and how this all started, there was a collective sigh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Minecraft Championships. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They were weeding out the weak.” Jack said. “They were selecting the best of the best for their health care reforms.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re using the DNA of the contestants that lived the longest to impregnate an entire country…” Sam whispered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hannah felt a chill run down her spine as she spoke, her entire body shuddering. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t know that that’s what they did.” Connor pointed out, as if he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>hope that things weren’t how they seemed. “They cut off the broadcast halfway through. They could have come back, maybe it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>this!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“People didn’t come back after Parkour, and more died during Battlebox before Schlatt announced the shutdown.” Hannah said simply. “It makes sense.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s barbaric!” Sam exclaimed, and Hannah heard his body shifting as he turned away and began to pace the floor of his apartment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” Hannah pointed out. “We need to act quickly. If Niki’s been in prison for almost two weeks and they’re doing this to her--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll be too late.” Alyssa said. “But, if she is pregnant, then there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>good news.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good news?” Jack scoffed. “How the hell could there be good news?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If they’re doing this to her, if they’re impregnating her just like me, then we know one thing for certain. She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur Soot wasn’t experiencing a particularly warm welcome to Manburg.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He supposed that waking up in a hospital with no recollection of the months prior should have been a good indicator, but without his memories he’d been gullible and quick to trust. The people around him claimed they’d saved his life, and surely he could believe what they told him. It wasn’t until several days later, when he was brought into a dark room with a young woman restrained and on the receiving end of torture that he realised the people </span>
  <em>
    <span>helping him </span>
  </em>
  <span>might not be doing what they suggested. His memories were slowly coming back - memories of games gone wrong and people around him dying - but until he saw what was happening to the woman from the bakery he’d assumed it was all an accident.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he heard her scream, he knew that wasn’t the case. When he watched as her finger was removed - removed by a boy he recognised as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy </span>
  </em>
  <span>- and she passed out, he knew that the people that were keeping him alive were the bad guys. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he begged them to stop hurting her - said that he’d do whatever they wanted (because if they were making him watch, surely they wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>from him) - he thought they’d agreed. He thought he could protect her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Niki. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The woman from the bakery was named </span>
  <em>
    <span>Niki. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was coming back to him now…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After he was carried from the dark room he wasn’t conscious too much longer. When he awoke his clothes had been changed, his hair had been shaved, and Niki was nowhere to be seen. He was in a new place, a new building, and was forced to sit upright while enduring what he could only assume was an attempt of brainwashing him. Images, stories, </span>
  <em>
    <span>propaganda </span>
  </em>
  <span>forced down his throat during every waking moment as he slowly but surely began to regain his strength. The muscles in his body had weakened after months without use and that wasn’t going to be undone overnight, but the people (guards, </span>
  <em>
    <span>soldiers, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he realised eventually) surrounding him weren’t pleased with how slowly progress was being made.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once ten days had passed Wilbur was deemed fit enough to join the military, and he found himself standing facing a mirror in his barracks at an hour that seemed both ungodly and completely normal. At least he knew that the dark bags under his eyes had nothing to do with his sleep schedule, moreso they had been caused by the same thing that the bruises across his knuckles were. In fact the pain of the last few weeks could explain the shaking of his hands and the rapid blinking, the nightmares that he couldn’t escape and the cold sweats that he awoke in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As his hands moved from the porcelain rim of the sink to cup together beneath the faucet, catching the water flowing quickly, he heard a bell in the distance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Breakfast. </span>
  </em>
  <span>As terrible as he felt, as awful as everything he had endured, he was looking forward to being able to eat for himself. It would be a pleasure that he would savour, and he would take that feeling and use it to get him through the rest of the day. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He splashed the water over his face, rubbed his eyes, and sighed as he straightened his back and stepped out of the washroom. They hadn’t changed him. No amount of propaganda could. He’d seen a child forced to amputate a prisoner, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>could make him side with these people. But he could pretend - he knew what would happen to him if he didn’t - and he could hope that he wouldn’t be alone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nervous wasn’t the right word to describe how Five was feeling. He was nothing short of terrified, and had been nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>but </span>
  </em>
  <span>terrified since the papers had first come through his box the Friday prior. Normally, even </span>
  <em>
    <span>now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the box wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that bad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’d had worse before Schlatt’s reign as Emperor had begun - he remembered a particularly awful Tuesday when he hadn’t been warned of a protest and his box had been full to bursting of meeting requests, papers and decisions to sign off on - but this was the cherry on top of it all. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the box that he would never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>forget sliding across his desk, and with a weekend to ponder its contents the feelings had only intensified. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It meant that as he stood outside the meeting room on Monday morning, the emotions practically seeped out of him. From the unbrushed hair to the loose tie, the untucked shirt to the smear of toothpaste on the lapel of his blazer, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>obvious </span>
  </em>
  <span>that things weren’t right.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rumay didn’t have to look at him for more than a second for her hand to outstretch and grab his, pulling him away from their meeting room before anyone else arrived to see them and tugging him into a storage closet. As the door closed behind them with a loud slam Five realised just how dark it was. If he wasn’t already in such a state of worry he might have become claustrophobic, but his mind was far too preoccupied to think about the lack of space (or the broom poking into his side).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” She asked quickly, and Five just let out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Before the meeting starts, what do you want in my will? I can give you my cars, my house, or my money.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He forced a half baked smile onto his face, one that didn’t reach his eyes and felt like a lie, but Rumay didn’t smile in return. She never took bullshit, not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>his, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he was glad to have a friend like her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t that bad.” She said flatly, trying to convince them both, and when Five didn’t reply she pushed. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They know.” He replied, not expanding any further. Instead, his eyes glossed over with a layer of tears and he laughed. “They </span>
  <em>
    <span>know, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hafu.” The childhood nickname made her stiffen and he shook his head once again. “I’m praying Schlatt’s either drunk nothing or an entire bottle of whiskey this morning. Anything in between pretty much puts my head on a chopping block.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Five, it’s not going to come to that. Whoever </span>
  <em>
    <span>they </span>
  </em>
  <span>are, and whatever they </span>
  <em>
    <span>know, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it won’t. Just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Let me reassure you--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If he thinks you knew about this before he did, he’ll be furious with you too. Just because it’s a couple of minutes warning won’t mean a thing to him. You’ll find out at the same time everyone else does.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rumay didn’t say anything in response to that. She just worried her bottom lip through her teeth, her hands at her sides messing with the fabric of her skirt. Five could tell she was nervous about what he was going to reveal at the meeting - the little telltale signs of her anxiety were things that she hadn’t shown in years - but he also knew that she wasn’t anywhere near nervous enough. No one was ready for the bombshell that he was going to be laying out in front of them all - he’d had an entire weekend to process it and still wasn’t quite grasping what it meant for the Empire.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you in a minute.” He said, pushing past her with a resigned smile on his face. Leaving her to stand alone, he opened the door of the storage cupboard and stepped back outside. Only Noxite was standing by the meeting room - a smirk on his face as if to suggest he’d been up to something that should have been kept </span>
  <em>
    <span>out </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the workplace - and Five cleared his throat. It probably didn’t help that his appearance was so disheveled, neither did it help when Rumay emerged moments later, but beyond Noxite’s eyebrows shooting up to his hairline he didn’t say anything to - or about - the pair. Instead, the three waited in silence as the rest of the Cabinet assembled and finally the man they were all waiting for appeared.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t stumbling, but the look on his face was that of a man that was pleasantly buzzed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That was neither sober and itching for a drink, nor drunk and too out of it to understand what was being said. With Schlatt’s arrival the Cabinet were ushered into their meeting room and each took their seats along the table. Rumay sat to Five’s left and he watched as her eyes flitted to his papers - in this case, not just his agenda and the papers on each item, but newspapers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tabloids didn’t go unnoticed for long by the others, and even Schlatt cocked an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought we stopped the media from publishing.” He said offhandedly, and Five felt himself shrinking back into his seat. He’d hoped that they’d at least wait until it was his turn to provide an update, that they’d at least get through </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the meeting before he was asked to explain himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We have, Sir.” Five took in a deep breath, pushing his shoulders back and listening to them pop as he did. He was full to bursting with tension, there was no way that he’d even get all the knots out of his spine even if he went to a spa every day for the rest of his life (which, by the way that Schlatt’s vision was now focused on him entirely, he assumed wouldn’t be all that long). </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve got a newspaper there, though.” Schlatt said, as if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>obvious, and Five nodded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do, Sir.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So where’s it come from?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Schlatt leaned forwards, arms folded and resting on the table. Even from the distance of four people, Five could smell the alcohol on his breath. It clung to his clothes, spilled out from his pores, and spread everywhere. It lingered in the room long after he was gone and the smell arrived before he did. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five wondered if there was any part of him that would remain after he spoke his reply.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The Province of Galeetopia. They ran a story on us. A lot of the papers have over there, and other places are picking it up too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Schlatt’s face fell, his eyes darkening and his jaw setting. The Emperor paused for a moment before he began to speak again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s it about?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing, counted to three, and reopened his eyes to look down at the page before him. His mouth had gone dry and his throat had tightened, but he still poked his tongue out and ran it over his lips in an attempt to try and wet them somewhat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The story continues…” He began slowly, stretching out every word to try and put off the inevitable. “...Nearly two months have passed since the borders of the mysterious L’Manburg closed under the order of President Schlatt - who our readers have voted as this century’s sexiest Dictator.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you correct them on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>President </span>
  </em>
  <span>part?” Schlatt piped up, seemingly pleased by the comment on his appearance. “Continue.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Despite how tight lipped the Government has been about the changes going on, gossip continues to leak out from the Palace and their special guests.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Special guests?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The recently escaped, unnamed men, have been offered asylum, and it sounds like they’re going to be here to stay. Rumour has it that they’re spilling </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>the beans to the King, and he is not happy with his neighbours.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Glancing up from the paper, Five looked to the other end of the table to make eye contact with Schlatt. The Emperor was sitting, drumming his fingers lightly against the desk, and thinking. Beside him Tommy looked afraid, the other Cabinet Secretaries looked afraid, and Rumay looked terrified. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Escaped?” Schlatt began slowly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve had no reports of any escapes, or any attempted escapes.” Rumay quickly began. “No one accounted for on the census has stopped claiming their rations.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So it’s someone unaccounted for?” Schlatt raised an eyebrow. “Someone we didn’t know about. Someone that </span>
  <em>
    <span>deliberately </span>
  </em>
  <span>evaded detection. Not only that, but if they’ve been granted asylum they’ve been out of the country for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The newspaper is from Friday, Sir.” Five admitted. “This is from last week.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you saying these people could’ve escaped around the time that Niki was arrested?” Scott asked. “Could she have had something to do with it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We spoke to the soldiers that were there on the night of the census.” Noxite replied. “And her friends. The soldiers didn’t find anyone, it was only Velvet that admitted to having knowledge of her plans. He didn’t say anything about her harbouring people.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe he didn’t know?” Lauren suggested from across the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe he lied.” Tommy pointed out. “Just because he told the truth about some things, doesn’t mean he told the truth about everything. We can’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>trust him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>No one else can verify his story.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All the attention in the room turned to Tommy, and Schlatt’s lips curled up into a smile. He raised a hand, patting the boy beside him on the back a little more roughly than Five was comfortable seeing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Have another chat with him, will you Lauren?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes Sir.” Lauren nodded, scribbling something down in her notebook quickly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And Lauren?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to enact conscription. I want every single man between the ages of 16 and 45 enrolled in the military. I want to know where they are, what they’re doing, and what their beliefs are. If anyone so much as dares to step out of line, I want them in front of me explaining </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>why. Understand?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five watched as Lauren looked up from her notes long enough to catch his gaze and he saw the less than pleased look on her face as she let out a quiet breath and nodded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes Sir.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuckin’ fantastic. Shall we start the meeting, now?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five couldn’t help but groan into his hands. The meeting hadn’t even begun, and already things were changing. It was all too fast for his liking, without proper thought being given to the decisions, but it was something he was quickly becoming familiar with. He wasn’t going to express his disapproval now, not when he’d somehow managed to avoid being berated. Instead, he’d keep his thoughts to himself and he’d stay quiet. He didn’t want to risk anything by gaining Schlatt’s attention for a second time that day.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # # </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ant pushed his food around his plate, barely taking any interest in breakfast. He ate better in the evenings after an exhausting day of training, but for the last week he’d had almost no appetite in the morning. Even with Ponk making an effort to come and sit beside him, with the man talking to him about his dreams or whatever game he’d played with his platoon during the evening before, he couldn’t pull himself out of his rut. The thoughts of Velvet came to him at night and stayed with him through his sleep. The absence of a hand holding his or a warm smile of a man that loved him wasn’t something that he could move on from overnight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The questions about whether or not any of it had ever been true made it so much worse, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>had been real for him. He’d been in love with Velvet for years, he’d have given his life for him. Maybe he still would.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ant?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was pulled out of his thoughts, jerking his head up to look at Ponk sitting across from him and waving. The other had a sad look on his face, but he still tried to smile. “I’ve been calling you for nearly a minute.” He explained.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, I was…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Ponk said, and Ant gave him a strained smile. He was glad he didn’t have to explain himself every time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a new guy today. Just the one. It’s strange, they normally come in batches.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“One new recruit?” Ant asked, pushing aside the bowl of soggy cereal that he knew he wasn’t going to even attempt to eat. “What’s so special about him?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if on command, like the universe itself was putting on a show and Ant had spoken the words that gave the man his cue to come on stage, the new recruit stepped into the cafeteria. He wasn’t walking in alone, but with his squadron, yet everyone seemed to look directly at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was hard to miss a superstar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s Wilbur…” Ant breathed, and Ponk looked around to him curiously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The Minecraft guy, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Niki has a crush on him.” Ant supplied. “He came to her bakery twice before the Championships began, she practically broke my phone with how quickly she texted. He was a nice guy, not the sort of person to get mixed up in all this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re nice guys too.” Ponk pointed out. “And somehow </span>
  <em>
    <span>we’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>mixed up in all this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t like it.” Ant replied. “Not knowing what’s been going on. Schlatt still had them all in stasis, Niki saw them the night of the party, and now he’s in the military?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Brainwashing, or cloning?” Ponk asked. “They do all sorts of science for the games, I’ve seen the videos, they could clone people couldn’t they? I mean, that’s essentially what happens when they get uploaded? Digital clones rather than physical ones? Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>what they’re capable of.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two were quiet for a moment as they continued to watch Wilbur walk to get his food. While most others seemed to revert their attention to their meals, they didn’t. Looking away felt impossible with the extra information that they had. They watched Wilbur load up a plate with eggs, toast and a variety of cooked meats, before placing it on a tray to grab a glass of orange juice. When he turned around they watched his eyes as they scanned the room for a place to sit, and when he looked in their direction they both had the exact same thought - start to wave him over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur didn’t appear to question their invitation before his feet started to carry him in their direct, eventually joining them at their table. Ant noticed that he didn’t seem quite the same as he did in the games - he seemed more uncertain of himself, his eyes a little wider and duller - but he supposed that </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>had changed in the past few months. No one had escaped Schlatt’s usurping of power without consequences of some sort. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the man sat himself down he held out a hand, fingers twitching ever so slightly, and Ant looked at the bruises that were clear as day as Ponk carefully took up the offer to shake.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Wilbur.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We know.” They replied together. “I’m Ponk, this is Ant. I don’t think you’re going to need to introduce yourself to very many people ‘round here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“People are going to have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>of questions for you.” Ant added, and after Wilbur extended his hand to Ant the two briefly shook before the Champion began to tuck into his breakfast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not going to have any answers. I know about as much as everyone else does.” He replied hastily, biting into a slice of toast. As he did, he let out the loudest, most </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasurable </span>
  </em>
  <span>noise that Ant had ever heard. His cheeks turned red at the sound of it - more so when he realised the people were looking at them - whereas Ponk managed to joke. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Been a while then?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t had solid food in </span>
  <em>
    <span>months. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I don’t count the digital shit they give you during the games, then I’ve been on liquids since I woke up a couple of weeks ago. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>is heaven.” He said, and Ant smiled to himself. Wilbur might not want to admit that he held any answers, but he wondered just how true that was. Maybe he just didn’t want to speak them to the wrong person, or maybe he really </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>believe that everyone around him had been informed every step of the way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s been going on since you woke up?” Ponk asked, and Wilbur took a second large bite before beginning to speak with his mouth full.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>of hospitals, getting my strength back, learning about Manburg. Not using your muscles for months on end is exhausting, but I’m here now. I agreed to it, so…” He shrugged, reaching for his juice as Ant took on the role of questioner. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not from around here, are you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pogtopian, born and bred.” Wilbur smiled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So what do you think of Manburg?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur faltered at that, his face falling for a moment, and Ant could see the gears in his mind turning to try and find the correct answer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because Schlatt isn’t all that popular around here. He arrested his most vocal critic.” Ant added to his question, and instead of just faltering this time, Wilbur seemed to stop completely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...Niki?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper. Ant hadn’t expected that - he’d expected that, at almost, Wilbur would have been concerned by that development. He hadn’t anticipated that the man would be so struck by it, nor that he would be able to name her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It meant that, whatever had happened to him in the last few weeks, he’d been in the same place that Niki had been for at least some of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It meant that, given Niki had been arrested, he might not have been there of his own free will. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And most importantly, it meant that there might be a third person to join them in their efforts to continue Niki’s work while she was incapacitated. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry…” Wilbur whispered, and now it was time for Ant’s face to fall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry?” He asked, trying not to let the anxiety within him rise up too quickly. Wilbur would clarify, and with added understanding he was sure things wouldn’t be as bad as they </span>
  <em>
    <span>could be. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“What do you mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried to help her, I tried to stop them. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wilbur, what do you know?” Ponk pressed, his face now just as concerned as Ant’s. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve seen what they did to her, at least some of it, and I’m so sorry, but I don’t think they’re going to let her live much longer.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>goodness this was a struggle, so sorry about the delay in updating but my brain simply did not want to write this chapter! i wonder who's right, whether it's wilbur or the revolutionaries. is niki still alive? </p>
<p>find out next time on monsters and men ;)</p>
<p>as always, if you enjoyed please do leave a kudos! comments really keep me motivated too so please, i beg you, let me know how you found the chapter &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Seed Takes Root</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Happy birthday Niki!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Footsteps accompanied the voice that wished her well, the lights around her were turned down, and as Niki blinked until her vision came into focus she felt a tear fall from the corner of her eye. She didn’t need to see the man to know who had come to visit: Scott was her only regular company and his voice had become something she both dreaded and rejoiced in hearing. If she had more strength then the words she’d heard might have been enough for her to snap, but she didn’t, so they weren’t. Instead she lay quietly and watched as he approached her, the smile on his face never faltering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” He said, pulling a seat for himself a little closer to her before sitting down and watching her with great scrutiny. She didn’t flinch when she heard metal dragging against concrete, nor did she look away as he leaned over her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Time was meaningless, wherever she was. She drifted in and out of consciousness, and with the lights shining as brightly as they were she found that the differences between being awake and being asleep were miniscule. In reality, she was only aware that time had progressed on the completion of three separate activities.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the doctor that had tended to her severed finger came to change the dressings, she knew that time had passed. When someone - usually Scott - came to perform another round of intrauterine insemination or to take her blood and run tests, she knew that two more days had passed. She didn’t know what intervals she was fed in, but the arrival of a soldier who would silently change the IV that gave her the nutrients she needed told her that time had continued on further.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hearing those three words from Scott, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the birthday wishes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>told her that she’d been in this hell for nearly an entire month.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had no idea what had happened to the outside world in the time that she’d been away, no idea if Bad and Skeppy made it to safety or if anyone was continuing her legacy. She didn’t know if her friends were still alive, didn’t know if they knew that </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>was still alive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was awfully lonely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Happy birthday Niki.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the words echoing in her head being the same that Scott had spoken moments ago, the memory made her smile. She didn’t see the sick grin, or hear the heavy footsteps, or dread the coming pain. Instead she felt safe, she felt secure, warmth and kindness wrapped her up and held her tight, and she heard a carefree giggle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good morning Princess, happy birthday.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The memory of her father’s voice brought fresh tears to her eyes, and she found herself looking straight through Scott as if he was there. As if she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>reach out </span>
  </em>
  <span>and be a child again, as if she could get her innocence back and not have to live like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You have to pay the birthday kisses tax!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>“Why, of course your majesty!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If she closed her eyes tightly enough she was even able to relive the feeling of her father pulling her into a tight hug and littering her cheeks with kisses. She could feel the heat of the candles on her birthday cake that her mother brought through, and hear the whoops and cheers of her friends as she blew them out. She remembered the party when she turned nine at the bowling alley, when Velvet managed to get his hand stuck in one of the balls. She remembered when Ant squirted an entire bottle of ketchup into his mouth and subsequently spent ten minutes in the bathroom throwing up everything in his stomach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a wonderful day, with far too much sugar and excitement and presents, and it was one of the memories she found herself recalling time and time again. She lived in her memories now, the ones that the bright white lights hadn’t erased from her mind were the only things that got her through the torture she endured.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well if you’re not going to speak, I’m just going to do the test.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To an extent, Niki was used to it. This wasn’t the first test, and the tests were far less invasive than the other procedures that Scott performed. It was easier to just tune out, to forget about what was happening, to go back to her memories. At first she’d thought that living in her mind would be detrimental, but trying to think of a future had quickly become unrealistic. She had felt herself start to crumble, her optimism had shattered. Living in the past wasn’t always a good idea, surrounding yourself with memories rather than going forward wasn’t necessarily healthy, but she could excuse herself for this. If she thought of anything other than the past she’d lose herself completely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The General had told her not to lose herself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She needed to remember that she had friends that would help her and if she thought about them rather than wind up counting how many days went by before they came to rescue her, she’d only start to doubt them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They would come when she could, and until then she would keep herself alive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ten minutes.” Scott said, footsteps approaching her with his voice as he sat himself down again, and Niki remained unresponsive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the third test she’d been given. The previous two had, </span>
  <em>
    <span>obviously, </span>
  </em>
  <span>come back negative and she hardly expected it to change this time. It would lead to another week of torture, another week of isolation and silence, but it provided another week for her friends to get her out before anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>permanent </span>
  </em>
  <span>was done to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not very talkative today. Usually you say at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I know being an evil genius requires a certain amount of monologuing, but it’s not always fun. Have you ever thought about </span>
  <em>
    <span>me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Niki?” He asked with a sigh, raising an eyebrow as her eyes finally dared to flit in his direction. “What about </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>needs?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.” She said flatly, her voice hoarse and weak from a lack of use. “When I was arrested and held against my will I didn’t think about the needs of my captors. How inconsiderate of me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Niki, I thought we’d done a better job of breaking you.” Scott muttered, more to himself than her, and he leaned forward and grabbed her chin. He pinched it tightly between his thumb and forefinger, and she made no effort to stop him. “I want you to talk, but I don’t want you to talk </span>
  <em>
    <span>back. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can make this an awful lot harder for you if you’d like.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Niki knew better than to answer. It was a statement, not a question, and she feared that if she did answer it would only lead to Scott making things harder as he suggested. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s my birthday in a week.” He said, letting go of her jaw and sitting back in his seat. Niki didn’t say anything in response but she kept her eyes on him, and he appeared to deem this satisfactory behaviour and continued with his story. “I think for my birthday I’ll have a cake with a unicorn on it - did you know they’re the national animal of Snowchester?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Unicorns aren’t real.” Niki replied, and Scott shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They can be. Noxite already told you about our experiment making a Human-Enderman hybrid, I’m fairly certain we can stick a horn on a horse.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Niki didn’t say anything further, not wanting to hear more about the awful things these people had already done </span>
  <em>
    <span>and gotten away with. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I might let you name the baby, if you’re good.” Scott said after a minute of silence, and his words were enough to gain Niki’s interest again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re going to be mine.” She answered, forcing her voice to sound assertive. It didn’t work in the slightest. “If you’re--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Niki, sweetheart.” Scott’s voice was like honey, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>it with every fibre of her being. “At best, you’re a test tube. None of us care about you. You are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>vessel. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re going to carry a child, but it’s to prove a point. If after being such a vocal critic of the regime people see you falling into line, then anyone with concerns will realise there’s nothing to worry about. Once your child is born, you’ll be disposed of, unless we find another use for you before then.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Niki swallowed. It wasn’t really a surprise to hear any of those things, but hearing Scott talk about her that way to her face still hurt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What would you call it?” Scott asked. “You’d probably name it something sentimental. Maybe you’d name it after your parents, or one of your friends, whereas I was thinking of </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun names. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Maybe we could cut a few corners and name it </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unicorn, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then we don’t need to go putting party hats on all the horses we find. Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>Giraffe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sheep, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dandelion.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He chuckled to himself, and Niki bit her tongue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was trying to get a rise out of her, trying to make her say something that she’d regret. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an excuse to torture her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another silence passed, before a quiet beep came from the digital watch that Scott wore and he seemed much more alert. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Times up.” He said, standing up from his seat and starting to move around again. Much like before, Niki paid little attention to him. This was all becoming routine to her, there was no point in getting involved or invested. He would walk back to where he’d left the test, he’d see it was negative, he’d inform her and he’d turn the lights back up before leaving. Someone would come and top up her IV in a few hours, then in a few days Scott would come back and start the procedures all over again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was her life until someone else did something.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Niki.” Scott spoke up. His tone seemed different for once but she couldn’t find it in herself to so much as turn her head toward him. “I guess we’ll have to sort out a birthday present for you after all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat, then Scott approached her slowly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll need to take a blood sample to confirm it, and once we know for certain we’ll move you into a slightly more comfortable cell.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stepped back into her vision, the smile on his face evil and giddy. Niki found herself dreading the next words more than she’d feared </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d said to her before. A chill ran down her spine as Scott looked her up and down like she was some kind of alien, like he was examining a completely different species and wanted to know what made her </span>
  <em>
    <span>work. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She hated it, she hated </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re pregnant.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Noxite was a man that had always been busy. As a child he’d been deeply interested in science, he’d spent any free time he had tinkering with his hands and thinking with his mind. While he built devices in the basement of his parents home, he thought up new theories. He was nine when he settled on what he wanted to spend his life doing, and by the time he was ten he’d managed to sequence his entire genome. His family supported his endeavours even if they didn’t quite understand </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>the child prodigy did. His school had never been in a position to support the development of a genius.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was destined to go nowhere. Without recognition, without funding, his talents were supposed to remain a hobby - hidden from the world.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, kid.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Noxite - now twelve - looked up. As was the case with many child geniuses, he was somewhat lacking in social skills. Most other children at the science fair were charismatic and confident enough to have worked up a small crowd of family members to explain their projects to, but without his own family there to support him (though they were working - his parents now both with two jobs in the hopes that they would be able to save up enough to send him to a University that could allow him to truly blossom) he had ended up alone. He didn’t expect to be approached, certainly not by a lone man that seemed to be fifteen years his senior and smelling of whiskey and tobacco. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the project about?” He asked. The stranger’s words were somewhat slurred and part of Noxite wondered </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d managed to get onto school grounds, but he supposed that if he was allowed in it would be fine to talk to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Genome sequencing.” He replied. “I found a way to reduce the time needed from weeks to a matter of hours. I tested it on myself and my parents and can highlight where the similarities and differences are, and--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Better than another fuckin’ baking soda volcano.” The man chuckled gruffly, one hand moving from his pocket and extending out toward Noxite. “Call me Schlatt, kid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Noxite.” He said, politely reaching forward to take the older man’s hand and shaking it as firmly as he could. After he let go, Schlatt snuffled and brought his hand to his face. He wiped his nose with the back of it, then the back of his hand over the fabric of his shirt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Noxite, you don’t really seem like the other kids. You look like you’ve done actual science here rather than just regurgitated whatever shit your teacher fed you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Noxite winced at the language the man used, his eyes glancing around briefly to see if anyone else was nearby - a teacher or a responsible adult - but everyone seemed distracted. He’d been taught plenty about stranger danger, he knew that if he was uncomfortable he was supposed to tell someone, but all of that had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>theoretical. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Noxite was a scientist - he knew that theories didn’t always hold up and he knew that he didn’t want to experiment with this. Schlatt, whoever he was, seemed like the type of man that could quite easily do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it felt like walking away would be the catalyst that would make him act.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I like science.” He replied instead. “I like learning new things, and building things. I want to change the world one day.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell you what,” Schlatt began, sniffling again. He went quiet again for a moment, instead of speaking he shifted his weight from foot to foot and his hands reached into his pockets and pulled out an assortment of things - string, cigarettes, a paperclip and some dust bunnies - until he pulled out a small piece of card. Unlike everything else about the man - unkempt, unhygienic and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sad</span>
  </em>
  <span> - the card was almost pristine. Schlatt held it between two fingers and stretched his arm out toward Noxite again. When he wiggled his fingers and the card moved, the text shimmered under the lights of the hall. It was embossed and gold, and when Noxite took it from him the man let out a breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Give that to your parents. I want to have a chat with them, see if we can’t find a way to help you out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Noxite blinked twice, his focus moving away from Schlatt to the card he’d been given. On it was the man’s full name, his credentials, his phone number and email address. He was a businessman, and if his card was anything to go by he was a rich one too. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Noxite asked quietly. He wasn’t an idiot, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>what it meant, but he didn’t want to believe it. If he let himself believe it and he was wrong then he was setting himself up for a monumental disappointment. He wanted to hear it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This school isn’t exactly the kind of place that’s gonna stimulate you, it’s not gonna push you. If you’re gonna reach your full potential, you need an institute that can help with that. I know some good schools, and if your parents are okay with it then I’d like to cover the costs.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With those words, the worries from before disappeared entirely. Schlatt </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>a creepy guy, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>trying to make him uncomfortable or afraid, he was trying to give him something that he would never truly be able to repay the man for. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Squeaky shoes quickly closed the gap between the pair and Noxite - standing no taller than Schlatt’s hip (having not had a growth spurt in some time) - wrapped his arms around the man that had been a stranger only minutes ago. This was his future. This was what he wanted. It was a miracle! He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t have tears running down his face, and he couldn’t pretend that his breathing hadn’t turned to quiet sobs, but he didn’t care. He felt a hand moving to his head and ruffling against his hair as if to comfort him, but it only made him cry harder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Th-thank you.” He wept, his voice muffled. “Thank you M-Mister Schlatt.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it kid.” He heard from above. “I know, one day, you’ll make it all up to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # #</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve taken up smoking again.” Noxite said, his back turned to Schlatt as he pressed a series of buttons on the machinery in front of him and watched as the blood sample Scott had taken from Niki descended. In a few minutes, they’d know with certainty if she was pregnant or not. Despite his formal role now being the Secretary of Justice, this was still Noxite’s baby. This was his project, his creation, and even if he had other responsibilities he wasn’t just going to stand aside when it came to his inventions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a celebration.” Schlatt said. “Whiskey might as well be water to me, I can barely even taste it. A cigar, though?” He huffed to himself, and Noxite looked up from his work to share a brief moment of eye contact with Scott who stood to his left. “Something special about that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A couple more minutes and we’ll have an answer.” Scott said. “The test came back positive, and with all the medication being pumped into her I’m willing to put money on it being right. We’ll move her tonight if she’s expecting, then we’ll start making the necessary arrangements for the next few months.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Schlatt replied, Noxite looking over his shoulder just in time to see a puff of smoke filling the room. “Have you made my offer to her yet?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not yet.” Scott said. “I’m warming her up. Soon. I’ll ask her soon.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll be good for all of us if you can make sure that </span>
  <em>
    <span>soon </span>
  </em>
  <span>means soon.” Schlatt replied, bringing the cigar away from his face and pointing at Scott with a finger. With a nod in reply from Scott, Schlatt seemed content, and he turned on his feet (only wobbling a little) and left the room. After the door shut the pair waited for several more seconds, confirming that he was truly gone before letting their shoulders drop and exhaling loudly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not just smoking a cigar as a celebration, I can tell.” Noxite said, leaning against the worktop beside him and folding his arms over his chest. “There wasn’t even a bit of a cough, and when he took his hand away you could see how he started shaking. Ever since the news of those escapees got out he’s been leaning on it. Alcohol has been part of his life for years, it doesn’t have the same effect it used to.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat before Noxite turned to look at Scott, who’s eyebrows had shot up toward his hairline and his face was one of confusion.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Since when have you known so much about Schlatt’s personal life?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Noxite chuckled to himself, shaking his head and looking back down to the floor. He didn’t need to talk about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>with anyone. Certainly not with a colleague and - dare he say - friend. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s an observation. I’m a scientist, not a politician, I see these things in people.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Scott hummed, and then the two were quiet. They’d worked together long enough to not need to fill the silence whenever it arose, and for a while nothing did. Eventually, though, the whirring of the machines was drowned out by a fresh topic of conversation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know we can’t stay forever.” Scott said quietly, both men staring at the floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“People know. The world </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>something is going on here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If they trace it back to us…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, Scott.” Noxite said, a hand coming to his face and fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Did you talk to Lizzie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I managed to get a message out to her. She’s more than happy to help the three of us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Three? You told her about--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I just implied that there would be more than just </span>
  <em>
    <span>us </span>
  </em>
  <span>coming. When are we going to wake him?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We can’t do it too early. We can’t risk anyone noticing. The Noxcrew are one thing, they work for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but anyone else… And we can’t wait too long. He’ll be a dead weight if we have to carry him, it’ll slow us down. We have to time it perfectly, we need him awake but still subdued.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s been in stasis for over two months, it’ll take him weeks to be back to his normal self, if he ever is. We entered unknown territory with all of this a long time ago, Techno waking up as lucid as he was was </span>
  <em>
    <span>incredible, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Wilbur is nothing short of a miracle. I really don’t know how much longer we can keep everyone in stasis and expect them to come out of it </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re saying we need to do this soon.” Noxite stated, and Scott nodded to confirm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“In the next couple of weeks if we can.” Scott replied. “It’s exponential. For every extra day people are in stasis, they need two, or four, or even ten more to recover. It’s all too new for us to know precisely how long this will impact them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well.” Noxite shoved his hands into his pocket, the machine from before </span>
  <em>
    <span>pinging </span>
  </em>
  <span>to indicate that it had completed its task and Scott moving to look at the readout without another word. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take an experiment with us. An experiment </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>leverage, Tubbo is much more useful than I expected he would be.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This place will fall apart the moment Schlatt realises he isn’t in control.” Scott said. “Anyone investigating will see him - deranged, unhinged, drunk and mad with power - and they’ll stop looking any further. Everything will be pinned to him if we can just get out before anyone hears about our involvement. We’ll be forgotten.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When I was growing up I never thought I’d want to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>forgotten.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Noxite smiled to himself. “What does it say?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The test was right.” Scott said, tapping his fingers against the side of the machine. “Pregnant. Definitely. But she’s got </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>high hCG levels.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You really have been doing your homework.” Noxite commented dryly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have, and I’m going to run it again just to be sure the reading is right. I’ll make sure that she has regular blood tests going forward and monitor it. If it’s still high in a few weeks we might want to give her an ultrasound earlier than normal, I don’t think Schlatt would be pleased if anything happened to her. She’s supposed to be his proof that what he’s doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was more quiet as Noxite nodded in response, and Scott began to speak once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll let you do the honours. I’m going to give Niki the good news and get her military boy to help move her. I’m sure it’ll be nice for him to see what power we have over her, it’ll be easier to keep him in line if he knows she’s alive, too. Gives him more of a reason to listen to what we say.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll put Schlatt’s proposition to her soon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll give her a couple of days to get attached to the little sprog growing inside her, then I’ll deliver his question with a few persuasions. Shouldn’t be too hard to get her to agree.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And in a month we’ll be gone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fingers crossed.” Scott replied cheerfully. “I’ll see you at dinner.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a wink, Scott left the room, and Noxite programmed the machine to run the test on Niki’s blood a second time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In a month, they’d be gone from that place. But Noxite knew better than most that things could change in an instant, and the instant could be unexpected. All he could do was hope that there were no </span>
  <em>
    <span>moments </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the next month, that they made it out clean and safe, and that they had the control over Schlatt that they needed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For now, though, there was the task at hand. Noxite enjoyed his job, he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>miss </span>
  </em>
  <span>the opportunities to experiment when they were gone, and so until then he would revel in the things he could do and what he could learn. He’d just try not to think too much about Schlatt breathing down the back of his neck…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span># # # </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Standing at the door behind Scott was terrifying. Wilbur hadn’t been in the room since the day he’d seen Niki tortured. It wasn’t something he’d forgotten, though his memory of what happened wasn’t the best - the trauma hidden by a thick fog with only outlines and feelings telling him that stepping over the threshold would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He watched as Scott keyed in a code for the door, then swiped a card, then pushed it open and stepped inside. Wilbur knew he couldn’t be seen to be lingering, but he was terrified of what he was going to see. As he followed, the light dropping substantially, he held his breath and kept his composure when he heard Scott beginning to speak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The tests we ran all came back positive.” He told Niki, and Wilbur remained far enough away that he couldn’t see her. He didn’t want to see the state that she was in. But he still listened carefully, wondering if Scott might say something that would give him a clue as to what had happened to her over the past few weeks. “We’re going to move you into a cell now. You’ll have a few more freedoms - you can stand up, move around, and feed yourself with solid food when meals are brought. You should be incredibly grateful.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>what he was hearing, but at the same time he </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought they were going to kill her, he thought they were done with her, but it sounded like she was going to be more alive now than she had been since her torture. Of course, his teeth scraped against each other when Scott had the audacity to claim that she should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>grateful </span>
  </em>
  <span>for this, but he bit his tongue and said nothing. Niki seemed to remain the same - he didn’t hear her voice at all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you come over here, Private Wilbur?” Scott asked, and he turned to look over his shoulder as Wilbur held back a flinch. He knew that Scott had used his title deliberately, he knew that upon hearing that Niki would fear the worst - that he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>joined them </span>
  </em>
  <span>- but he wordlessly stepped forward until he was beside Scott.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Until he could see Niki.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His face didn’t react, his lips remained tight and his eyes remained focused, but his heart shattered in his chest. He looked at Niki, still lying in that same gown from weeks ago, and he was torn between anger and pity. No one should have to suffer like this - she looked pale and thin, tear tracks were clear to see on her cheeks even though her eyes were dull, and the gown was covered in various bodily fluids (most obviously </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood)</span>
  </em>
  <span> - but he doubted she would want him to feel pity. He didn’t know Niki, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>really, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but there was a lot he could assume about her. If the Government had gone this far to overpower here it wasn’t because she was weak-willed and pliant. Clearly she was a strong woman who defied their cruelties until it wasn’t possible to do so anymore, and so he focused on his anger more than pity.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If she didn’t have the physical strength to get revenge herself, then he’d damn well do it for her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I need you to handcuff her as soon as I release her wrists. It’s just a short walk to her new cell. You’ll take her there and fetch her meals three times a day, on top of your training.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur nodded, and Scott stepped closer to him so he could whisper into his ear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And if you so much as think about </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathing </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of line, she’s the one that’s going to suffer. Do you understand?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur swallowed, then nodded again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes Sir.” He muttered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that Scott smiled widely, picking up a set of handcuffs from the table beside him and pushing them against Wilbur’s chest before he approached Niki and began to undo her restraints. Her legs came first, and when they were taken out of their chains they slipped to the side. It was like she had no control of her body at all, like she was just a doll. How Scott expected her to walk to her cell was beyond him, but he didn’t dare raise the point. If stepping out of line meant that Niki would suffer, then he would tread </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>carefully. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Niki’s first arm was freed, Wilbur moved to her side and snapped one half of the handcuff around her wrist. When the second arm was released, he repeated the action, and he felt no resistance at all put up by Niki. It broke him to see how far she had been worn down, and he wanted to ask her just what they’d done. He wanted to help her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on Niki, time to get up.” Scott said, eyeing the woman for a moment before looking to Wilbur with a sharp glare. Without a word, Wilbur knew what Scott was ordering him to do, and so he moved Niki into a sitting position - his left hand holding the handcuffs and his left elbow resting against her back to help her sit. Niki was trying - he could feel her muscles working overtime to support herself - but after weeks of being restrained it was clear that she’d lost an awful lot of muscle mass. Her breathing was louder, she seemed to already be covered in a thin layer of sweat, so rather than force her to try and go the rest of the way to standing on her own Wilbur wrapped an arm around her midsection and stood up. With his support, Niki could stand, though he could feel that minimal weight had been put onto her feet. He just hoped that over the next few weeks she would be in a position to recover. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, this way!” Scott said cheerfully, turning around and starting to walk out of the room. With his back turned, Wilbur took advantage of the moment to whisper into Niki’s ear just like Scott had done to him moments ago.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here.” He said, trying to make his voice sound as reassuring as possible. “I know you don’t know me, but I’m here. I’ll help. I swear I’m on your side, whatever that means.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While Niki didn’t respond to his words verbally, he felt her body straighten and he smiled to himself briefly before returning to a more neutral expression and following after Scott. She didn’t have to say anything to communicate that she’d heard him, and he could almost feel the hope he’d injected into her system as her legs tried to push herself forward. When they stepped out of the dark, dingy room and out into the bright corridors with fluorescent lights, Niki leaned against his chest and he could see from the corner of his eyes that her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He remembered the bright white lights they’d used to torture her - they’d been removed since, but he had no idea how long they’d remained in place. He hoped that her new cell would be free of such devices. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>God, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>prayed </span>
  </em>
  <span>that they would show some kind of mercy on her. She’d suffered enough. And if they wanted her alive - if they needed her alive - surely they would give her a slightly better standard of living. Scott had said that if he stepped out of line, she’d be hurt, but surely she was being kept alive for more reasons than just as a hostage for his behaviour. She was important, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he wasn’t. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She had done something to make the Government angry, he’d just been an athlete who’d been woken from stasis and forced into the military. There were plenty more people like him, he assumed, but Niki was different.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There had to be a reason.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>True to Scott’s earlier word, it hadn’t taken long to walk to her new cell. It was only a few turns in the corridor away from where she’d been kept before - something that made Wilbur’s insides churn - but it at least looked more comfortable. There was a bed in the corner, with a thin mattress and thinner sheets, there was a sink and a toilet in the opposite corner, and the only light to be seen was a single bulb dangling down from the ceiling. The cell had four thick, brick walls with no windows, no bars, and no way of observing the outside world. A metal door with a small hatch that he assumed was to be used for food was the only way in or out, and there was no way to lock it (or unlock it) from the inside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She might be more comfortable, but Niki would still be completely cut off from the outside world.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even under the watchful eyes of Scott, Wilbur took Niki to the bed in the corner. He worried that if he let go of her that she’d just fall - her body still relying heavily on his to remain upright - and he was as gentle as possible as he lowered her down. When he no longer felt her body weight on his he let go, unlocking her handcuffs and pulling them away from her wrist. His fingers brushed over the knuckles of her hands - a gesture gentle and good-natured to try to give her some semblance of kindness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been a while since she’s eaten anything solid.” Scott said as Wilbur stood back up, straightening himself and turning back to face the man. “You might need to help her at first.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s fine.” Wilbur replied, his voice still gentle. He cleared his throat quickly, before nodding and replying a second time with a firmer, less compassionate tone. “Of course, Sir. I’ll assist her until she regains her strength.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After leaving the room with Scott, closing the door behind Niki and locking it so she was alone, it was a matter of minutes before he returned with a tray full of food. Hot soup, a hunk of bread, an apple and some water to drink. It wasn’t much, but Wilbur suspected that it would be the most that Niki had eaten in some time regardless. They really were trying to keep her alive, and that frightened him more than he wished to let on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Letting himself back into her cell, Wilbur found that Niki had barely moved. She had shifted from the edge of the bed into the corner, using the wall to help prop herself upright, and he could see her muttering something to herself. She stopped when she heard someone joining her, her eyes widening and looking up at Wilbur like she was a deer in headlights. He placed the tray down for a moment as he closed the door behind him, before picking it back up and looking at Niki with a softness in his eyes that couldn’t be there when Scott had been watching.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now it was just the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I come closer?” He asked. “I understand if you don’t want me to. I don’t know what they’ve done to you but…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped speaking as Niki nodded, and he made his way slowly across the room until he reached the other edge of her bed. He sat down, hearing the frame creaking beneath his weight, and he placed the tray beside him. It would be a few minutes until the soup was cool enough not to hurt while eating. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you speak?” Wilbur asked, realising that he hadn’t heard Niki say a word. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” She said quietly, her voice gravelly and low, and Wilbur was quick to pick up the plastic bottle of water from the tray. He twisted the cap, hearing it snap and letting out a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been tampered with, before leaning over and holding it out for her. Niki took it gratefully, tipping her head back a little when she brought the bottle to her lips and started to drink it all down desperately. Wilbur wished that he had more to give her, and would try his damnedest to bring more water with him when he brought her breakfast in the morning. He had no idea how closely observed they would be, or how thoroughly her cell would be inspected (and how often), but he wanted to do what he could to make her life more comfortable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After drinking half the bottle, Niki cleared her throat, and she began to speak for a second time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Niki.” She said, holding out her right arm weakly. Wilbur looked down to the hand that she presented, a hand with all five fingers, and he looked to her left. The skin graft was shoddy, but it had covered up the stump that Tommy cutting off her finger had left behind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>God, what had he gotten himself into? What had happened to him? Wilbur needed to find him, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to speak to him, but there was no use in thinking about that now. Instead he just took Niki’s hand, shook it, and smiled at her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Wilbur.” He replied, his face falling as he began to speak. “Niki, I don’t know what they did to you but I want to help you. I know you don’t know me, I understand if you don’t trust me - I’m wearing their uniform for God sake - but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>swear </span>
  </em>
  <span>I want to help you. If there’s anything I can do, tell me. I don’t care what the risk is to me, they’ve hurt you more than enough and I think it’s time someone else stood in the firing line for you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Niki’s face flickered between emotions - between joy and sorrow, hope and pain - before finally settling on a sad smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Wilbur.” She whispered, her words genuine even if she struggled to speak them. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t be getting hurt because of you, it’s my choice. I’m on your side, and I know Ant and Ponk will be too when they--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re okay?” Niki asked breathlessly, and Wilbur nodded quickly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I spoke with them at breakfast today, they’re fine, they’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>relieved </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hear that you’re alright. People were starting to think you were dead.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not dead.” She smiled a little. “But I guess it’s hard to make a dead woman your science experiment.” There was a pause for a moment as Wilbur took in Niki’s words, as he tried to process what she’d said and figure out how to follow it up, but before his mind could do all that Niki spoke one more time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, you said Ant and Ponk.” Niki stated, the smile vanishing from her face. “Wilbur, what about Velvet?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Velvet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d heard about Velvet. Ant had explained what he’d done - his betrayal. But Velvet had been Niki’s friend, and the last that Niki knew he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>her friend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She still believed there was good in him, she didn’t know what had happened to her was his fault.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not a question for me to answer.” He replied, focusing on the food in front of him to divert attention away from the topic at hand. “Soup’s cool enough now.” He picked up the spoon, blowing softly on the liquid to be certain what he said was true. Niki seemed to understand what he was trying to do and she didn’t push any further, the two sinking into an amicable silence as she ate her first solid dinner in weeks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ant would tell her. He would find a way for Ant to tell her the truth eventually. For now, he’d focus on what he could do, and that meant keeping Niki safe - no matter the cost.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>alright readers, reveal yourself, who is now a noxite apologist?</p>
<p>and hey! niki and wilbur getting a moment together that doesn't involve horrific torture! we stan!</p>
<p>hope you enjoyed the chapter, please do leave a kudos if you're liking the story so far &amp; consider leaving a comment, they really make my day &lt;3 take care &amp; stay hydrated!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! Congrats on surviving Feast or Famine and continuing with the series! As always, any feedback is welcome - kudos and comments mean the WORLD to me, and so does bookmarking and subscribing! If you have theories, need to sue for emotional damages, or just want to scream at me, the comments are always open! &lt;3</p><p>You can find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/moonieiswriting">Twitter</a> or <a href="http://amooniesong.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>, or you can join my <a href="https://discord.gg/berzY3JvqN">Discord Server</a>. I've also made a playlist for this fic, it's available on <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1XmRqIIKKUihGltQiECOTV?si=42909ba3f8d445fa">Spotify</a> so give it a listen (and if you enjoy it, you can follow too)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>